


TtH • Story • Saving Faith

by Jinxgirl



Series: Saving Faith series [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Saving Grace (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2018-09-13 05:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 47
Words: 195,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9108133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinxgirl/pseuds/Jinxgirl
Summary: After Faith accidentally kills Finch, she has an odd visitor...her Last Chance Angel, Earl, who is determined she give her life over to God. Crossover with Saving Grace.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place third season Buffy, post Bad Girls, and presumably some time after Saving Graces seasons has ended (after Earl has finished his work with Grace Hanadarko; I havent seen the third season yet so Im not sure how the series ends). It is, obviously, a crossover of Buffy and Saving Grace.

 

TtH • Story • Saving Faith

 

 

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## Saving Faith

  
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  * 1\. Chapter One 2\. 2 3\. 3 4\. 4 5\. 5 6\. 6 7\. 7 8\. 8 9\. 9 10\. 10 11\. 11 12\. 12 13\. 13 14\. 14 15\. 15 16\. 16 17\. 17 18\. 18 19\. 19 20\. 20 21\. 21 22\. 22 23\. 23 24\. 24 25\. 25 26\. 26 27\. 27 28\. 28 29\. 29 30\. Chapter 30 31\. 31 32\. 32 33\. 33 34\. 34 35\. 35 36\. 35 37\. 37 38\. Saving Faith 39\. 39 40\. 40 41\. 41 42\. 42 43\. 43 44\. 44 45\. 45 46\. 46 47\. 47 

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Summary: After Faith accidentally kills Finch, she has an odd visitor...her Last Chance Angel, Earl, who is determined she give her life over to God. Crossover with Saving Grace.

Categories | Author | Rating | Chapters | Words | Recs | Reviews | Hits | Published | Updated | Complete  
---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---  
[Television](http://www.tthfanfic.org/Category-1-8/Television.htm) > [Saving Grace](http://www.tthfanfic.org/Category-2-2626/Saving+Grace.htm) | [Jinxy](http://www.tthfanfic.org/AuthorStories-12376/Jinxy.htm) | FR15 | [47](http://www.tthfanfic.org/Story-24433-47/Jinxy+Saving+Faith.htm) | 197,648 | [8](http://www.tthfanfic.org/recommendedby.php?no=24433) | [125](http://www.tthfanfic.org/Reviews-24433/) | 28,123 | 28 Feb 11 | 13 Feb 12 | Yes   
  
  


### Chapter One

Saving Faith  
Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters, nor do I own the Everclear song lyrics in the beginning of the chapter.

Author notes: This takes place third season Buffy, post “Bad Girls,” and presumably some time after Saving Grace’s seasons has ended (after Earl has finished his work with Grace Hanadarko; I haven’t seen the third season yet so I’m not sure how the series ends). It is, obviously, a crossover of Buffy and Saving Grace.

Chapter 1  
“So pretty, oh so bold, got a heart full of gold on a lonely road  
She said, “I don’t even think that God can save me…  
Am I gaining ground? Am I losing face?  
Lost and found my saving grace  
Be thankful for the gift my angels gave me”  
Everlast, “Saving Grace,” theme of Saving Grace

It started out as some of the best few days of her life. So of course, it was a given that it would end the way it did- as her worst, with no question about it, and no way to erase it…only the option of covering it up.

Things had been good, so much so that every day Faith was waking up actually smiling, actually happy, remembering the day before, and actually looking forward to the day ahead of her. Sure, she was still living in a crappy, depressing motel room, where the sounds lulling her to sleep every night were not air conditioner running (it was always broken, of course) or a fan (also broken) or the sound of traffic on the street outside (nonexistent), but instead, of the thumping of headboards and loud moans and screams of people screwing in the rooms next to hers. Sure, she was always low or lacking on cash, and if a vampire really wanted to kill her in her sleep, nothing was going to stop him, seeing as they could waltz into her motel room any time they felt like it. And sure, the deal she had worked out with the overweight and overly sweaty motel owner on how she could keep paying her way was sometimes almost beyond her endurance to the point that she had seriously considered just taking off.

And sometimes she had. The walkabout she went on once a month or so, Faith always considered just not coming back. But something in her would never let her leave for good. Something small and soft and wistful, something she hated to admit was present in her at all, always prodded, then insisted she come back, that she try again to make Sunnydale her home, to force her way into somehow being accepted in whatever way she could, even if it was just as the backup muscle and shock value girl.

It had been starting to look like her efforts weren’t for nothing after all, that maybe she was starting to find a place with everyone…that maybe they wanted her to have a place with them. Or at least, that maybe Buffy did, and for Faith, that was all that really mattered, and all that would matter to everyone else. If Buffy decided she liked her…if Buffy accepted her as part of her group, as one of her friends…then Faith was part of them, and that was that. And everyone else knew it.

It really had seemed to be changing, getting better. Faith was being included, sometimes, when they had their monster meetings, and Giles was starting to talk about training her more seriously. Once in a while he even looked at her with approval instead of his standard British looks of bewilderment, embarrassment, or irritation. And when that stupid wimp of a Watcher, Wuss-ley Wyndham-Price, came along, it was even cooler. It was like Giles and Buffy and Faith, all on a team against him. Faith had never had that before, the feeling that she was on the majority’s side instead of the one the majority was facing off against, and she had to say she liked it.

Obviously Xander was into her. The guy followed her every move with eager, if embarrassed, puppy eyes ever since she screwed him that time. He hadn’t been bad, for a beginner, but beyond that, Faith didn’t know. He was a nice guy, even if he was a naïve dork too, and it wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about him since, but that was exactly why that was a dangerous road she needed to stay off of. She might want to be part of the group, and it’s not like she would mind helping Xander continue his sexual education. But he’d try to make it more, and Faith knew damn well that “more” was a place she flat out could never let happen. Vampires, she could handle. It was “more,” and all that might entail, that gave her nightmares.

Willow and Oz- well, Willow still hated her guts and hoped she suddenly got a double mastectomy and leprosy of the face, or something, so nobody’d think Faith was so hot anymore, Faith was pretty sure. And who knew what Oz thought about anything. But Buffy…it had been with Buffy that Faith had had some of her best days, and it was with Buffy that her hopes were set on.

Faith always knew with just a little help and guidance, the blonde could figure out how to loosen up and really have some fun. After all, the girl was a Slayer too. Their bodies were made to do, feel, and be more than everyone else, so why not enjoy it? Just a few nudges in the right direction- and the sudden appearance of Wesley Wyndham-Price was some help too- and B was actually living large, slaying with her for the fun of it and not just duty, skipping school and stealing weapons, breaking out of police custody and having a damn good time doing it.

The way Buffy had watched her, following her cues, the way she had danced with Faith, her face open and alive with her smile, her hand in Faith’s and her eyes on her like no one else right then even mattered…the way they had been laughing, adrenaline pulsing strong as they chased down the vamps in the alley, a perfect team, knowing they would take them down together…it had been amazing. It had been perfect and exhilarating, freeing and just so damn fun, and Faith had felt close to her, like she was connecting with her, one with her in a way she could never be with anyone else. And maybe, just maybe, Buffy felt it too.

But then came Buffy’s shout of horror as Faith’s stake descended, too late, too fast, and Faith could not pull back, could not stop herself from following through, from burying its sharp wooden surface into the heart of a man who was still very much alive. Then came the seconds suspended in time as blood bloomed across his chest, as his eyes widened with shock and pain, as his shaking hands moved to cover the serious wound Faith had caused….the wound that was killing him. She could barely hear Buffy’s panic-stricken voice, could barely see her bent over him, desperation stark in her features.

All Faith saw was the light in the man’s eyes slowly dimming as he died right in front of her, and fear gripped her heart, twisting her stomach into a heavy ball low in her torso. Even as she ran, vaguely aware that somehow Buffy had separated, was no longer following behind, Faith could not stop seeing the man’s open eyes, the blood spreading fast across his chest.

She should have known by now that for Faith Lehane, there was no such thing as a good day.

* * *

  
In an alley several blocks over and one street left from where the body now lay, Faith flattened her back against the wall, eyes wide, pupils enlarged and darting rapidly around her, making sure that no one was coming, that she was alone. Her chest heaved with her rapid, shallow breaths, her hair was half hanging in her face, and her heart beat so hard and quickly in her chest that she could feel it pulsing in her temples. Lowering her eyes, she hugged her elbows, shoulders hunching in, and tried to focus on slowing her breaths, on keeping back the bile rising in her throat and the tears stinging the back of her eyes.

That man…she could still see him so clearly, could not push his face from her mind. Over and over she saw her hand plunging downward, the stake’s sharpened point penetrating his chest, the horrified realization that turned her stomach inside out and dropped it to her toes when she realized what she had done, what she was seeing before her. Over and over she heard Buffy’s warning shout, saw the blonde’s eyes widen until it seemed the only feature of her entire face, and none of it would stop, none of it would go away.

She had killed a man. Faith had killed a man. Not a vampire, not a demon, not a monster or zombie or cyborg…a man. She had killed another human being, one who hadn’t even been hurting her or threatening her, and she could not accept what this meant.

The way he had looked at her…it was like he couldn’t believe it either, what was happening to him…what she had done to him. He had looked at her like it made no sense to him, like his pain, his impending death, just wasn’t possible, wasn’t real…he had looked at Faith with shocked incomprehension, as if she had betrayed him.

She hadn’t meant to. She had thought that he was a vampire. After all, wasn’t that what she and Buffy had been doing, chasing vampires, sending them to a rather dusty afterlife? What had he been doing, a grown man like that, walking alone in an alley at that time of the night? She hadn’t meant to hurt him, she never would have if she had known. She hadn’t known he was human…she hadn’t known.

The way Buffy too had looked at her, with total shock, with horror vivid in her eyes…she had looked at Faith like Faith had turned into something evil without warning, like Faith was a killer…and she was now, wasn’t she? She had killed him. She had killed that man.

The more she thought about it, the more agitated she grew. She gritted her teeth and clinched her jaw, but her leg still quivered, needing the support of the alley wall against her back, and her nails bit into her skin, tearing through her sleeve as her breath quickened.

This wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fucking fair! Why had it happened- why now, when everything had been getting better, when everything was starting to edge towards okay? Why couldn’t she have reacted fast enough, why couldn’t she have slowed down? Why did he have to be there? Why did she always screw up every chance she got, no matter how hard she tried not to?

This was bad…this was so fucking bad. She’d go to jail, who would believe she hadn’t done it on purpose, a girl like her? Buffy couldn’t lie worth a damn, and who would believe her anyway, if she was babbling on about being vampire slayers, especially since she had been expelled from two different schools in as many years? Buffy wouldn’t defend her anyway now, she was horrified by Faith and what she’d done. They could never be friends now, Buffy would never want to get anywhere near her after tonight. She’d tell all the others, and they would look at her like Buffy had…like a loser, a screw up, a horrible person who might turn on them at any second.

Like a murderer. She was one now…Faith was a murderer.

No…no! Faith couldn’t let that happen, she wouldn’t. She would make it like it never happened. She would make it so no one ever knew, so no one could ever pin it down on her. Not even Buffy. If there was no evidence, then how could anyone know she killed him? Without any blood or body, how could anyone even be sure that he was dead? There would be no proof that a crime had even been committed.

She had to go back…she had to get rid of the body. She could burn the clothes, or bury them… she could weight the body and dump it into the river. She better take the stake out of his chest though…it had her fingerprints on it, so she would have to burn it too. She could do this. She could make it better…she could make it okay. She could do away with this, she protect herself- but she better start right now.

Slowly Faith drew away from the wall, taking a few seconds to steady herself, and waited until her legs felt strong and steady before beginning to retrace her steps, returning to the site of the death. As she drew closer she set her jaw, lifting her chin, squaring her shoulders, and narrowing her eyes, deliberately hardening her gaze. She willed herself to do what she needed, what would protect her, and to feel nothing, either during or after.

Just do it, Faith. Don’t worry about him, nothing you can do for him now. You’ve gotta do what you have to for you now…and the only way to do that is to get rid of what’s left of him.

Several minutes later she stepped back into the fated alley’s entrance, taking a deep breath, her eyes momentarily raising to the sky in a silent half prayer that came in a whisper she was not aware of speaking out loud.

“Oh God…GOD…”

She took a slow, shuddering breath, blinking several times, and then tensed her jaw again, bringing her emotion into rigid control before letting her eyes lower, focusing on the alley’s contents. But as they came to rest on the open space before her, Faith blinked, then frowned in bewildered confusion, her eyes quickly roaming the space all around her in an attempt to come up with an explanation. For the body that had been slumped against the wall no less than ten minutes before, and all traces of its blood, were completely gone.

She had to have screwed up again. She must have ended up in a different alley, she must have took a wrong turn somewhere. But no, Faith recognized those windows, and the graffiti on one wall. This was the right alley.

Well, then maybe he hadn’t died after all. Maybe he had just been hurt, and someone had helped him- took him to a hospital. But there was no way. Faith had seen his eyes freeze over…she had seen death too many times before not to recognize it in the man today. And if an ambulance had come there would have been sirens and noise and commotion for someone so badly injured…so someone must have taken the body. But who? Vampires? Why would they do that- to feed? But why would they clean up the blood? It couldn’t be police, they wouldn’t clean it either. Buffy? Had Buffy come back with Faith’s same idea and tried to cover up for her? But how had she finished it all so fast, where was she now?

Faith turned in a fast circle, trying to find something, anything that would clue her in to what was going on, and when she came back around to face into the alley again, she gasped sharply, barely stopping herself from screaming. A man was standing a few feet away from her now, his back leaned casually against the alley wall, just a foot or two away from where the man had died. She knew with absolute certainty that he had not been standing there a split second ago. There was no way she could have missed him.

The man looked like nothing Faith had ever seen before, at least not in Sunnydale, California. He was slightly overweight, probably in his fifties, with longish greying hair and a tanned, weathered face distinguished with warm brown eyes and an easy, relaxed look to it. Of course, everything about him was pretty relaxed as it was. He was wearing holey, well-worn jeans and a beat-up grey flannel shirt, and he had a Mountain Dew bottle in one hand, though Faith could see the bulge in his lower mouth that indicated tobacco. All in all, he looked like a perfectly stereotypical image of a redneck, hillbilly hick from some southeastern state like South Carolina that Faith had never had the slightest interest in setting foot in. As she stared at him without bothering to conceal it, her mind racing to come up with an explanation for his presence, the man took a long swallow of his Mountain Dew before turning his head her way, still very casual in his posture. But when he met Faith’s eyes, and spoke to her in a thick Southern drawl, both his tone and his smile held undeniable affection.

“Those who call upon the name of the Lord are saved…well, you called, Faith. God heard and answered, and He sent me. My name is Earl, and what I am here is your Last Chance Angel.”

As Faith’s mouth dropped open, and she found herself momentarily unable to form words, Earl turned to face her fully, continuing to smile warmly.

“Are you ready to turn your life to God?”

 

(Author note: I’m from South Carolina, I’m free to mock it lol)

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	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Completely forgot to update this. It's finished, will post the rest as I can. Sorry!

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters, nor do I own the Everclear song lyrics in the beginning of the chapter.

Chapter 2

"Any man who says it's Heaven and Hell  
Prob'ly got somethin' useless to sell  
You ask me if I'm saved, but what's it to ya?"

"Saving Grace," Everclear

For several seconds Faith just stared, eyes wide; she was unable to find words. After she had come to the delayed conclusion that her ears had not deceived her- that this smiling, tobacco-chewing old man in front of her had not only declared himself to be an angel, but also asked her to turn her life over to God- she shook her head, the incredulity in her expression quickly softening into relief. It wasn't real. None of it, nothing of this whole screwy day was real. That was the only possible explanation.

Laughing shortly, a smile curving her lips and lightening the tension of her gaze, Faith shook her head, letting out a loud sigh of satisfaction. She shook her head ruefully as she looked back at her self-proclaimed angel- Earl, he had called himself. That cinched it even more- what kind of angel was named EARL?

"Alright, I get it now, this all makes sense," she declared, shaking her head again, and even she could hear the relief coloring her tone. "Either I'm dreaming, I'm totally whacked out, or I'm on one hell of a trip here. Thank God for that, because this is one day I don't mind restarting here."

"You can thank God all you want, Faith, and he enjoys and encourages it," Earl replied easily, and to Faith's partial amusement, partial disbelief, he took a last swallow of Mountain Dew from his bottle, throwing it into the nearby dumpster, and spat out a stream of tobacco before turning back to face her, standing up straight rather than remaining leaned against the wall. "But this is real. You, me, what you did, what you're doing now, it's live, happening action in the here and now."

"No way in hell- OR heaven, since that's where you're claiming to come from," Faith shot back, her voice rising slightly. She took a step towards Earl, her stance growing more defensive, almost aggressive, as she tilted her face up to stare into his eyes.

"First off, the only angels in existence, at least here on earth, are the broody ones who rob the cradle with little blonde ex-cheerleaders and are on an all liquid, all blood diet. Second, if there WERE angels, and they wanted to come to Sunnydale, aka the Hellmouth, which they wouldn't, they definitely wouldn't come here looking like they just left a mountain biker bar or a Charlie Daniels concert. Third, pretty sure if angels could drink like humans, and why the hell would they if they were a freakin' angel, they'd pick, like, nectar of the gods or something, not Mountain Freakin' DEW, redneck beverage of choice. And no angel would be chewing tobacco and SPITTING in front of their doomed soul human," Faith asserted, her voice slightly louder and increasingly sarcastic and assured as she continued. "And even if you had some explanation for all that, and there's no way you do, there's one thing that no one could ever explain away, and that's what angel would come to ME, and to cover my ass, of all things?"

"Not everything in life makes sense, Faith," Earl said calmly, still giving her that same gentle, partly amused smile. Looking at it irritated her. Maybe in part because she felt drawn to it. "Especially when you're young and human."

"Tell me about it, this is a Slayer you're talking to here," she rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips before fixing a hard stare back in his direction. "But that's not a good enough backup of you being a freakin' angel, that's no explanation at all, so I KNOW you're full of shit now."

"I hadn't started to give an explanation yet," Earl replied patiently, rolling the tobacco in his mouth into one cheek and shaking his head in what appeared to Faith to be continued amusement- amusement at HER. What was so funny about HER, he was the redneck ninja-like guy claiming to be her angel, and he wasn't even real!

"Angels are different from vampires, even souled vampires, Faith," Earl went on, his slow drawl seeming in no hurry to make its way through Faith's list of points in any sort of timely or confrontational fashion. "We're creatures and creations of God, not demons .We're God's servants. Even souled vampires who do good work ain't the servants of God."

His smile quirked at the corners, and he chuckled, touching his own head." Plus, we angels aren't big fans of the hair gel."

Faith snickered in spite of herself; real or not, this was wild, and sort of funny. She wasn't going to rush waking up yet. It wasn't like she had so much to look forward to when she opened her eyes. The killing a guy part of this dream had sucked, but this part with this Earl guy was hilarious. She kept her hands on her hips, angling one shoulder towards him almost flirtaciously, and raised an eyebrow as she addressed him.

"You guys don't lose your soul over sex either, I'm guessing."

"Well, we had a few of those," Earl smiled, shrugging. "But that's between them and God."

When Faith snickered again, shaking her head, Earl went on, continuing to leisurely address her counterpoints one at a time.

"As for how I look, well, we can look like whoever we want to, Faith. This is how I decided to look for you."

"Lucky me," she deadpanned, eyebrows quirking again as she looked Earl's rather unimpressive form over pointedly, smirking. "I usually go for younger, more of a dangerous outlaw or grunge loser kind of look though…can't say I've got much interest in your choice here, Earl, no offense."

"That's partly why I chose it," Earl told her with a hint of a smirk of his own. "Figured you'd listen better, focus on what I've got to say if you weren't distracted by a pretty face and a sexy body."

When Faith snorted, unable to keep from grinning, Earl smiled at her, seeming to enjoy her expression. "As for that god drink stuff you mention, well, I like human food. Don't see any reason why I should let ya'll have all the fun."

"Okay, whatever," Faith continued to smirk. She shifted her weight, then tilted her head to one side, still fixing him with a challenging look. "You still appear out of nowhere, looking like a guy from Beverly Hillbillies, you announce you're not only sent by GOD, but are also a freakin' angel, you want to clean up my mess, and you know my name-"

"Well of course I know your name, Faith," Earl cut her off, his tone genuinely puzzled that she would find this odd. "What kind of angel would I be if I didn't know my own charge?"

"That's what I'm getting at!" Faith exclaimed, thrusting out her arm to point at him almost accusingly. "There is NO WAY you're some God-sent angel come to clean up my messes and save my sorry soul, or come make me over into a good little girl, you're either deluded and totally ninja-like at sneaking around and getting rid of bodies, which is kind of creepy, actually, or else none of this is real! Because why the hell would God ever come down from his throne in the clouds to give a damn about ME when he never gave a damn about me before?"

She was finding herself to be more agitated than she had originally thought, her breath coming faster, her hands forming fists at her sides, and her face felt hot, flushed. She stared at Earl fiercely, her throat tight. But he looked back at her calmly, giving her that same almost tender smile, and Faith swallowed, not sure why it was that she was so uneasy, yet somehow almost comforted at the sight of it.

"That's where you're wrong, child. God loves you with a love you ain't never gonna fathom, Faith, and He don't expect you to do anything to earn or deserve it, because the truth of it is, none of us can."

"Not even you angels?" she shot back, jerking her chin up towards him, and Earl shook his head.

"Not even us. Faith, all God wants from you and everyone else is for you to be happy and at peace, but the only way for that to happen is for you to ask for His help. He's been watching over you and waiting on you to just ask for it since day one, but most of you humans don't do that until you're in a whole heap of trouble, do you?"

Earl shook his head again, chuckling slightly, and Faith tensed, almost glaring back. She obviously didn't believe a word he was saying, but if it HAD been true, then it sounded to her like God was the one who was all screwy.

"Are you trying to tell me that God sits up in the clouds twiddling His thumbs until someone begs Him to get to work, THEN He hops right to it, no questions asked?" she asked, incredulity stark in her tone and expression. "What kind of deep, huge, unfathomable love is THAT, because it sounds to me like plain old "Do something for me and then I'll love you" love to me."

"First thing God and First Corinthians would tell you about love is that it's patient," Earl replied mildly, shrugging. "Reckon that goes for you and God both."

Faith rolled her eyes. The guy had a way of answering without really answering, and it was pretty damn irritating. How do you keep arguing with a guy who just stands there calmly and SMILES at you anyway?

"Yeah, well, you sit around waiting for something to happen, chances are it never will. God helps those who helps themselves, or don't you angels know that in angel academy?" she shot back with a flash of triumph, but Ear was not at all shot down, like she'd hoped.

"That ain't in the Bible, Faith, that's from Aesop's Fables. Smart guy, Aesop, but he ain't God. You see, God, He helps people when they've reached the point that they're so lost and broken up inside that they can't do one more thing on their own. You know what he does then, Faith, when He sees His own children like that, and they call out for His help?" Earl asked her quietly, his eyes on hers, and Faith thinned her lips, tearing her eyes away quickly.

"Sends a poor schmuck like you to do His dirty work, I guess. Look, this is all bullshit, okay? Nice talking to you and all, but you're no angel, alright? None of this is even real," she declared.

She turned her back on him deliberately, beginning to walk away. "I think it's time for me to get out of bed and face reality."

She hadn't taken more than three steps before a loud snapping noise behind her made her jump. When she turned back around instinctively, her eyes almost popped, pupils dilating with her shock and fear, and she found her legs not quite willing to work. Earl hadn't moved from where he was standing, nor had he stopped smiling, but jutting from his shoulders now were large golden wings, with a span of ten to twelve feet, glowing brilliantly and illuminating his entire frame and the space around it.

Faith's sinking, sickened stomach, her flushed face, and rapidly beating heart informed her all too well that this must be real. She really was standing in front of a freakin' angel.

"Holy shit," she whispered, her voice shaking, and Earl shook his head.

"No, holy servant of God, aka Earl." As Faith continued to gawk at him, unable to help herself, her mind racing to make sense of it, Earl continued, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Fear of the Lord is beginning of knowledge, Faith. God is certainly a loving God, but He will also not be mocked."

She blinked, taking in a slow breath. Her mouth was dry, her head too full of too many thoughts to make sense of any of them, and it took several tries before she formed words.

"What do you want from me?"

"It's what God wants from you that matters," Earl corrected her, but she couldn't tear his eyes from his massive wings to look at his face. "He's giving you a second chance, and he sent me to help you out. There's a lot of people headed straight for hell, Faith, and it's my job to make sure you ain't gonna be one of them."

Some days Faith felt like she was already in hell, living it right here on earth. But she didn't speak, swallowing again, and let Earl go on with his monologue.

"You remember what you did today?"

When Faith hesitated, then nodded jerkily, he went on, continuing to look towards her face so intensely that she was eventually forced to look into his eyes.

"You killed a man, Faith. We all understand it was an accident, but a line was crossed today, and the second you chose to run, your soul began a dark descent that me and God couldn't have had nothing to do with…until you decided to ask for help. But you did ask, and now we're in it for the long haul. So are you ready, Faith?"

Faith's brow creased, her eyebrows furrowing; her head was still struggling to compute Earl's words, to accept them and understand them as reality. It took her a few minutes to realize a question had been asked.

"What?"

"Are you ready, Faith, to accept my help? Are you ready for a second chance?"

She was standing in front of a guy with angel wings, a guy who was God's best pal, who had somehow erased her murder and more importantly, could probably strike her with lightening before she could blink. Real or not, there was only one correct answer, and it sure as hell wasn't no thanks.

"Yeah," she replied faintly, nodding, and Earl's smile widened.

He reached out, gently caressing her hair, and she shivered, then went very still, stunned at how such brief touch from him had felt warm and soothing to her core.

"Good girl," he remarked, before pulling his hand away. "Looks like you're gonna be another tough one, and I do like a challenge. Guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow."

Then his wings retracted, pulling back rapidly into his shoulders until they were completely gone, and then Earl was gone too, disappearing as suddenly and totally as he had come. Faith stared after him for several moments, catching herself beginning to breathe more evenly again, her body slowly loosening, and then she was disappearing too, her world darkening, spinning beyond her grasp into nothingness.


	3. 3

Chapter 3

Disclaimer first chapter

"Blow a quarter, cop another eight  
You're runnin' out of high, you're losin' your faith"

"Saving Grace," Everclear

When Faith opened her eyes, she was in her bed, face down on her pillow, her blankets strewn over the floor. For the first few moments she was motionless, letting her body adjust to her waking. Then memories of the night before began to flood rapidly into her thoughts, and Faith sat up hurriedly, her eyes darting about her cheerless motel room as she attempted to piece them all together.

She didn't remember coming back to her motel room. Either way, if it had all been a dream or not, she didn't know, she didn't remember. It had to have been a dream…right? She didn't meet an angel who chewed tobacco and talked in a drawling Southern accent, obviously…and she didn't kill anyone. She couldn't have. It must have been a dream. It must have been.

But when Faith raised on hand to push her hair back from her face, she froze, horror choking her throat. There was blood dried on her hand.

Lifting both hands to her face, her heart beginning to pound hard in her chest, Faith examined her palms, looking for a cut or wound of some kind to explain the blood, but she was uninjured. The blood was not her own.

It was the man's. The man from last night…the man she had killed.

It had been real. Maybe not Earl the angel, that part had to have been fake, or her own delusion or something…but the rest of it, including Faith becoming a murderer…that had been real.

Sickened, Faith stared down at her hands as her stomach flipped over, watching as they began to tremble badly. She took in two slow breaths, clinching her jaw, and told herself fiercely to stop, to calm down, to figure out what needed to be done.

Still, as her stomach lurched threateningly, and the faint scent of the dried substance on her hands filled her nostrils, she found herself jumping up and almost running to her sink, beginning to wash the blood off her hands. She scrubbed until the skin was red and raw, almost bleeding, and still she swore she could smell the man's blood, could still feel it clinging to her palms.

It took her several minutes of frustrated fiddling with her TV, fraught with swearing and shakings, before she could get both the sound and picture to come in decently enough for her to see, but as Faith flipped through the limited channels, she saw no news report on a guy who had been staked in an alley. Of course, this meant nothing. It was mid morning now, and it might have been mentioned earlier. Or maybe they hadn't put on the news, or maybe Faith had got rid of the body so well it hadn't been found yet.

That was another question, another part she didn't understand…how had she gotten home? She didn't feel hungover or sore, so why couldn't she remember? If she had killed that man, then why couldn't she remember going back to her motel afterward?

She must have come back to get rid of the body…yes, she must have. Faith remembered going to do that. Then she must have done it, if that was what she had gone to do. That was when the whole Earl part got mixed in though, and things got confusing.

She must have got rid of the body. She must have done that, and then forgot about it, or blocked it out, because it had been a pretty damn bad night. Then she must have gone back to her motel, went to sleep, and dreamed about Earl. Yeah, that was the only thing that made sense…that had to be what had happened.

Even so, Faith found herself dressing as quickly as she could and heading out the door without taking the time to shower or brush her teeth first, heading towards the alley where the man had died. She had to look for herself, one more time, to be sure that all evidence had been done away with…or if not, that there was evidence that it really had happened after all.

8888888888888888888

There was nothing in the alley to indicate that a man had died there. There was nothing disturbed, not even the dirt or grime of the ground where he had fallen, and no blood either…and that was the part that gave Faith pause. If she had cleaned up the blood that the man's bloody hands had streaked on the floor beside him…then why did those spots not look cleaner than the rest of the alley floor? Why did it look uniformly dirty and untouched all the way across?

It didn't make any sense at all, and as Faith stared at it, trying to think, trying to remember, her thoughts jumped to Buffy. Buffy…she probably hated her guts now, probably never wanted to see her again. But she needed to talk to her. What if the blonde had seen Faith after they got separated last night? What if she remembered something Faith didn't? Plus, Faith had to know what Buffy was telling everyone else about what had happened, what she planned to do. The other girl could get her in huge trouble if she was running her mouth all over the place. Yeah, she definitely needed to talk to her.

Jerking her gaze abruptly away from the alley floor, distantly aware of her heart beating much faster than was normal for her in her chest, Faith turned and strode quickly out of the alley, beginning to make her way in a half jog towards Sunnydale High. One way or another she had to start getting answers, even if she dreaded what she was about to hear.

The high school was far from strict on security, though it well should have been seeing as it was located on the mouth of hell, but then, maybe their previous efforts to keep out any supernatural beings had been so useless the school had given up long ago and decided to let in whoever wanted to come. As it was, Faith walked through the front doors like she always did with no problem, beginning to walk down the halls mentally calculating the approximate time in her head, and what time the bells would probably ring to let classes out. As luck would have it, it was less than ten minutes before students began to mill through the halls, and as Faith plowed her way through the crowd, she spotted Buffy towards the end of the hall, walking away from her with Willow and Xander at her sides.

A new rush of adrenaline surging through her, Faith squeezed less than gently through the rest of the students to catch up to them, coming up behind him and calling Buffy's name in a voice that wasn't as casual as she wanted it.

"B! Hey B, wait up!"

As the three turned around, startled, Faith took in their reactions briefly. Willow's eyes flickered, a quick flash of irritation tensing her features before she put on a quick yet terse smile. Xander flushed, his eyes darting in all directions as a silly grin spread over his face, and he shifted his weight, seeming unable to determine where his eyes should rest, or if they should look at Faith at all. But it was Buffy she was watching closely…Buffy, who looked at her with surprise, some faint concern knitting her brow, but also a genuine smile. Not with fear, disgust, discomfort, judgment…with a smile.

What the hell?

"Hey, Faith," Buffy replied in an open, friendly fashion, still smiling, and she took a step closer, nearly brushing her shoulder with her own. "How's it going?"

"Yeah, hey, Faith," Xander echoed, his voice just a little higher and more energetic than usual, and Faith didn't fail to notice his eyes jumping from her cleavage to her face before guiltily flitting away again. "You coming to school with us today? I mean, obviously not coming to school, like, coming, because you don't go here, to class. Not that you couldn't- I'm not saying that- but coming, like you're here- does anyone else think it's really hot in here?"

Willow was looking between Xander and Faith with her eyes narrowed slightly, and her greeting to Faith was barely audible. Normally Faith would have found both her reaction and Xander's to be pretty funny, and do what she could to amplify them. But today she ignored both; she could only concentrate on Buffy's. Buffy was looking at her like nothing had happened yesterday, just as friendly and at ease as she had been yesterday morning, before it all…and Faith knew what a bad actress and terrible liar Buffy was. There was no way she was putting on a show for the benefit of Xander and Willow…was there?

She leaned close to Buffy, dropping her voice, and gripped her arm, not acknowledging either Willow or Xander as she met her eyes.

" I need to talk to you, Buffy."

At the serious edge to Faith's tone, the intense look of her expression, Buffy's own expression shifted to one of heightened concern, and her brow creased further as she held her gaze.

"Is something wrong? Has something happened? Have you talked to Giles- is Giles okay?"

Is something WRONG? What the hell was with her? Was this still an act?

"No," Faith shook her head, glancing quickly over at Xander and Willow and keeping her voice as low as was possible in the crowded hallway. She was somewhat embarrassed and irritated to know they were standing there listening, watching her with wide worried eyes and frowns identical to Buffy's, but at the moment, their presence couldn't be helped. "No, it's- it's not Giles's deal. Look, I just need to talk to you, okay?"

"Okay, of course," Buffy nodded slightly, glancing over at Willow and Xander again quickly before focusing her attention back to Faith. Under the focus of Buffy's gaze Faith squirmed inwardly, feeling transparent, almost raw, as if Buffy, if she looked long enough, would know all there was to know about her. "After school in the library, or-"

"No," Faith cut her off, shaking her head, and her grip on Buffy's arm tightened subconsciously, enough that Buffy looked down at her hand with a continued frown. "No, right now."

The concern in Buffy's eyes deepening now, she nevertheless nodded almost immediately, briefly touching Faith's shoulder, and it was the way she agreed so quickly, touching her with obvious worry and gentleness, that made Faith have to grit her teeth and fiercely instruct herself that she would not under any circumstances lose it. Not here, not now, not in front of Buffy, and definitely not in front of Xander and Willow. She didn't care if her arm was being chewed off by a rapid piranha, there was no way she would ever let them see her fucking cry.

As Faith turned away quickly, starting to pull Buffy after her, Willow's eyes widened in indignant shock as well as something akin to alarm; the redhead had been squirming with anxious irritation as they had stood in the hallway, no doubt disturbed at the growing possibility of being late for class. Now as Buffy turned to follow Faith with barely a glance back at her and Xander, Willow called out to her with alarm pinching her tone.

"Buffy, you'll be late for class! And you already skipped chemistry- and-"

"Can you just fill me in later on what's new in Proton-Ville?" Buffy stopped briefly to call over her shoulder, shooting Willow an apologetic, slightly guilty look, and though Willow said nothing in reply, Faith could practically feel the resentment radiating off her. That was one chick that REALLY needed to find the fun, alright, but she couldn't focus on that clear truth then. She was vaguely aware of Xander calling a goodbye to her and Buffy in a tone that was almost sad in its hope, but she couldn't focus on that either. Her hand still gripping Buffy's arm, she pulled her with her down the hallway and out a side door, taking her around the back side of the school near the dumpsters.

Almost immediately she was sure this had been a bad idea, because as soon as she was standing alone with Buffy in a location that was pretty much another alley, Faith started to feel like she had somehow turned back time, like they were again standing over the body of a dead man…a man she had killed, a man with her stake thrust into his heart. She tried not to look at Buffy, not to let her see the panic rising inside her, flickering across her eyes and tensing her features, sending her heart into rapid, irregular beats. But everything she looked at was too similar, bringing to mind a bloodstained shirt and open dead eyes, and for several moments Faith didn't trust herself to speak.

Buffy was staring at her now, the worry in her eyes growing, and she reached to lay a hand on Faith's shoulder, attempting to look her in the eye.

"Faith? Faith, what's wrong? Are you okay? Faith…what's going on?"

Taking in a slow breath, hoping it wasn't as noticeable to Buffy as it felt to her, Faith instructed herself again furiously, forcing away the panic pressing against her chest and blocking her throat, the images burning behind her eyes. Stop it, you idiot, you weak stupid loser, just stop it, she told herself fiercely as she set her jaw, narrowing her eyes. Stop it, what the hell are you doing? Just talk to her, fucking talk to her and get this all straight!

Meeting Buffy's eyes, she said as casually as she cold, very aware of Buffy's hand on her shoulder and the deep concern, almost fear, in her eyes, "Uh, right. Look, about last night, B…"

"What about it?" Buffy asked with no change of expression, and Faith felt realization, cold and heavy and slow in coming, creep through her, raising likes hairs on her arms.

Buffy didn't know what had happened…Buffy didn't remember the man dying. She was sure of it now. It wasn't just an act, just playing dumb in front of the others…Buffy didn't remember that Faith had killed a man.

What did that mean…what the hell did that MEAN? Had she forgotten, like Faith had forgotten how she had got to her motel? Had they been attacked by demons and forgot about it, and that made them somehow forget this too? The blood on her hands, had that been from a demon, not a human? From a wound on her head she hadn't noticed yet? Had it been dirt, or ketchup, or paint, and not blood at all? Or had Faith dreamed the part about Buffy being there? Had she dreamed the killing part too- had it never even happened at all?

At this newest thought, a strong surge of hope replaced Faith's stress, and she started to smile, then almost laugh out loud. It had never happened. None of it had ever happened. She never killed anyone, it had just been a stupid dream. She was just stupid and half crazy…she wasn't a murderer. It hadn't happened.

Her smile widening, Faith laughed, dimples emerging briefly into view. She felt lighter, younger, almost drunk with her relief. As she laughed again, Buffy stared, her eyes wide, her hand tightening on Faith's shoulder.

"Faith…Faith, what? What's going on?"

"Nothing, B," Faith shook her head, attempting to bring herself under control, but she was still smiling, unable to make herself stop. "Nothing…just…last night was wicked, is all. We should do it again soon, go hang out like that."

When Buffy gawked at her, flabbergasted, Faith snickered; she couldn't help it, the girl looked entirely too confused not too. Buffy's voice was slow, somewhat accusing as she answered.

"Faith…the reason you pulled me out of class saying you needed to talk to me, right away…is to tell me last night was fun and we should do it again soon?"

When Faith nodded as nonchalantly as she could, still grinning at the half bewildered, half indignant look on the blonde's face, Buffy's mouth opened and closed several times, her eyes blinking, before she continued.

"Even though we already said we'd patrol together tonight…even so, you felt the need to say that strongly enough to track me down at school and scare me, making me think that something was seriously wrong, just for you to say what we both already knew anyway?"

"Yep," Faith shrugged, still smiling, though her mouth twisted slightly to greater resemble a smirk by then. The smirk deepened as Buffy huffed, removing her hand quickly from Faith's shoulder and crossing her arms, shaking her head.

"You did that just to screw around, didn't you?" she demanded, but she was trying to suppress a smile. "Willow's going to be all over me for skipping class. I can't skip every day, you know. And what am I supposed to tell them about your big mysterious problem?"

"Tell them whatever you want, girlfriend, the kinkier the better," Faith laughed, and she affectionately slipped an arm around Buffy's shoulders, turning to whisper into the blonde's ears. "You could always tell them we were getting it on in the bathroom, that would make all questions stop in their tracks."

"Ew, Faith, you're disgusting!" Buffy exclaimed, but she only pushed at Faith half-heartedly, and she made only minimal efforts to continue fighting her smile.

Her own smile beyond her ability to suppress now, Faith squeezed Buffy briefly, then impulsively gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before releasing her, giving her a jaunty wave as she started to walk away.

"You know me, B, dirty to the core…see you later, Summers, get your ass to class!"

She could just picture the other Slayer still gawking at her, gingerly touching where Faith had kissed her in continued shock as Faith walked away, and Faith almost laughed out loud, her pace quickening. It was okay. Better than okay, it was great. She was just dumb, not a killer…she just didn't know the difference between a dream and reality. It was okay…it hadn't happened. It wasn't real.

But when she opened the door to her motel room and was greeted with the sight of Earl's smiling form, idly twirling a bloody stake between his fingers that Faith immediately recognized as her own, her buoyancy plummeted sharply, desolation and fear returning.

It was real. It was real, or she was crazy. But it definitely wasn't okay.


	4. 4

Chapter 4

"Street wise from the boulevard  
Jesus only knows that she tries too hard  
She's only tryin' to keep the sky from fallin'"

Everlast, "Saving Grace"

Faith's eyes could not move away from the bloody stake in Earl's hands, the stake she knew to be her own. She could see the words caved into its side, "The Chosen Two…" she had put them there herself, after she carved Buffy an identical stake for her Christmas present to her. She saw the nick on one side where the knife had slipped as she worked on it, and she knew without a doubt that it was indeed her own stake. But that meant…the blood, and Earl, and the night before…

NO. NO…

Faith struggled to draw in breath, feeling the shaky sensation fluttering inside her chest start to spread through the rest of her, until she had to lean quickly against the wall to make sure she didn't stumble or fall. Her heart sped rapidly in her chest, and there was a soft but growing pulsing in her ears as she continued to stare at her stake in the hands of the figure still sitting casually on her unmade bed. She could not put any of the many thoughts shooting through her mind into words.

Earl, on the other hand, had no such problem. He looked up and flashed Faith an easy smile, giving her a nod of greeting as he continued to flip the stake from hand to hand.

"Hi there, Faith…how come you're looking so surprised? You'd think you just saw a ghost, or something of the like," he chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "I told you I'd see you today, and angels always keep their promises. It would be pretty bad form if we didn't, don't you think?"

"You're not real," Faith ground out, pressing her back against the wall, even as her own senses and memories continued to work towards convincing her otherwise. "You're not real, so get the hell out of my room already!"

"Not real? Faith, we went over this yesterday," Earl reminded her, now twirling her stake like a short, thick baton between the fingers of one hand. Horrified and sickened as she was, Faith couldn't bring herself to avert her eyes from it. "You're a smart girl. You know what your eyes and ears tell you, and you know you ain't crazy. So why don't we get past pretending I ain't real and get on to business here?"

He was wrong there. About now, Faith DID feel like she was crazy. If this were true…if this were all really happening…then that made her a murderer…and that meant that Earl really was an angel, sent by God to give her another chance.

No way in hell. She had to be crazy…but what if she wasn't?

She jerked her eyes up from the stake in Earl's hand to his face, pushing herself off of the wall and drawing herself to her full height in front of him. Lifting her chin, she asked him with more assertive confidence and anger than she actually felt, "If all this is real, then why don't you tell me what the hell is going on and what you're doing sitting in my room then?"

"We went over that one too, weren't you paying attention?" Earl shrugged, and he stood up unhurriedly, his posture relaxed and open in direct contrast to the tension in her own. "You asked for help, God heard, and now you got it, in the form of me, your Last Chance Angel."

He said it like it was all so simple and logical, like his every answer didn't raise ten thousand questions in her mind. And if it was all real, if it had really all happened, then had he got rid of the evidence? Had he altered time? Was that guy still alive, walking around like everyone else? Did he remember getting killed like Faith remembered killing him? If it had never happened, why could she remember? Why couldn't Buffy?

"This doesn't make any sense," she said slowly, shaking her head. "None of it makes sense, okay, if all this happened, why doesn't Buffy remember? Where is the blood? Why isn't it on the news, if it really happened and I'm not a total nutcase, why the hell does it seem like the only people who remember are me and the guy talking to me claiming to be a freaking angel?"

"Because now, it never did happen, except in our memories," Earl explained, rolling into one side of his mouth the tobacco Faith had just noticed was again present. "Two different timelines now, Faith. Both real, but only we get access to them. For everyone else, it ain't real. Allan Finch never died."

And that was the explanation that was supposed to clear everything up- 'I waved my angel wings and it all changed because I said so?' Whatever. If this guy was saying it didn't happen, and Buffy seemed to agree, then Faith would just bury the stake he was holding and get on with her life. All the better for her then.

"Well, great, thanks a lot," she leveled, arms crossed, eyebrows lifted. "That was cool of you to help me out. It's all better now, so I guess I'll be seeing you, huh?"

Faith started to move towards the door, intending to open it wide and pointedly gesture him out, but Earl was making no move to do so. He shook his head, laughing slightly.

"Hold on there, girl, not so fast. You asked for help, God provided it, you don't got an option of refusing it now. That help wasn't no one time deal, where I clean up after your mistake and let you go on your merry way. This is gonna be a two way street, Faith, and that means that you're gonna have to make some changes in your life."

Okay, this deflated the relief Faith had felt pretty quickly. She stopped, one hand extended towards the doorknob, and turned back towards Earl fast, eyebrows shooting upward.

"Okay, what are you saying here? You help me out and now I have to be a nun or something?"

"Nothing so extreme," he laughed again, shaking his head. "No, all I'm wanting from you here is to see you start turning your life around, Faith…to see you start turning your life towards God and His will."

ALL he wanted from her? Sounded to her like what he wanted was for her to change her entire personality and hand over her whole life. And to Faith, that was worse than jail.

"Well, good luck with that one," she deadpanned, crossing her arms and shifting her weight onto one hip. "Be a good trick, since I don't even believe in Him."

"Is that so?" Earl asked mildly, his eyes narrowing slightly, but not in an unfriendly manner as he peered across the room at her. "Didn't sound that way when you called out for His help back there."

This was too much. Just too damn much, real or not, and she was sick of having her own totally impulsive words used against her. Faith's eyes narrowed as well, her face closing off, and she glowered at Earl as she countered him with irritation.

"Okay, I did NOT ask Him for His help, all I did was say His name a few times, and that's what most people DO when they're in a shitty situation, okay? It doesn't mean anything, you don't have to take it so damn seriously!"

"God is serious, Faith," Earl replied, his tone a little less light now, eyes holding hers. "And you might not have spelled out, but He knew the meaning behind your words. You know deep down His reality…and you want more than anything to experience His love."

What? How did he figure? She says "God" twice in a row, and the guy figures she's a closet holy roller Bible thumper? Just because her name SOUNDED religious didn't mean he could automatically shape her into his mold of God's little puppet. If there even was a God, and if you asked Faith there wasn't, she wasn't interested.

"You know, for an angel, you're not too good with the all-knowing ESP part of it," she said witheringly, rolling her eyes, and then turned, staring Earl straight in the eyes and speaking deliberately and determinedly. "No, I don't. I don't believe in God."

Earl looked back at her solidly, and though his voice was soft, it was every bit as direct as Faith's.

"Don't matter, Faith. He believes in you."

For several moments Faith didn't respond. She looked back at him, seeing the steady assurance of his gaze, the conviction of his tone, and expression, the subtle compassion in his posture…she took all this in, along with his words, and they replayed in her head in a slow whisper.

"God believes in you…"

Something squeezed in her heart, and her throat constricted…but Faith gritted her teeth, forcing it away, stepping down hard on the anger rising slowly inside her. Without even thinking about it she found herself stepping towards Earl aggressively, her voice rising, fists clinching at her sides in fierce and sudden fury.

"Oh yeah, God believes in me? God's real, He's up there smiling down at me, ready to give me all I could ever want out of life as long as I'm a good little girl and do what He says? God sees everything, God knows everything, God loves everyone? Then what the hell has He been doing all my life, why the hell didn't He do something to show it? Why the hell didn't He come down off His throne to help me when I needed it? Why the hell did He sit up there and turn up His nose when I tried so damn hard to be good, to be whatever people wanted me to be, whatever I was supposed to be? Why the hell didn't He hear me when I was a kid and I'd say God, help me, God, save me, God, make my mom better, make her love me, make me good enough to make her love me? What was He doing, sleeping, not paying attention, taking a piss? Did He not NOTICE when I went to the hospital four times in two years for "falling down the stairs" when I lived in a fucking trailer? Did He not notice that my mom spent all our money on alcohol instead of food, clothes, or bills if I didn't take it out of her hand? Did He NOTICE that all her boyfriends seemed to think I was part of the package when it came to dating her and they could try to take off me whatever she gave them? Is it just God overlooking things that made Him put me here, with a dead alcoholic mom, no dad, no Watcher, no money, no future, a shitty motel room aka my "home," and no one, absolutely no one giving a damn about me? Is THAT the God who believes in me- is THAT the God who loves me so damn much?" Faith demanded.

Though she was almost screaming by then, her eyes narrowed into hardly more than slits by the force of her glare in Earl's direction, her throat felt tighter than ever, her eyes hot and achy. She wanted to turn away, to run from whatever answer Earl had to give, an answer she knew would never be satisfying…as much because she prayed that he could provide her with an answer, as because she knew very well that no answer as such existed.

Earl looked back at her seriously, no trace of a smile now in his eyes, and he shook his head slowly. The compassion in his eyes, the sadness she saw there, all aimed towards her, shook Faith to her core, and she drew in her breath sharply. Angel or a deluded old man, bullshit or not, she couldn't think of any other time that someone had looked at her like that, and it somehow hurt her as much as her own shouted words did.

"Child," he said softly, and just his using the words to address her made Faith feel suddenly smaller, younger, more vulnerable and soft inside, as if he could emotionally regress her into being as such, through one simple, quiet word. "Child, if you had all the answers, then there would be no room for faith."

Faith…again he was talking about faith…that was his response to her questions, that was his only answer for all her suffering, for every shitty thing that happened to her? Faith…for her to be forced to develop faith?

If that was the way of God, Faith was better off without Him. She'd rather have Him hate her for what she was than love her for what she wasn't.

Swearing loudly and violently, Faith turned, heading with rapid strides towards the door. But behind her a loud crack sounded, and she froze…out the corner of her eyes she could see the tip of Earl's golden wings and the light emanating off them.

To Faith, this read almost like a threat, or some similar form of manipulation on his part. What the hell, if he really was an angel, he would use his angel power crap against her? He thought he could trump her by pulling out the wings, that she'd be so shocked or amazed she would just stop and do whatever he wanted? Well he was in for a surprise then, because Faith was getting the hell out, and it didn't matter what he did to stop her.

Reaching for the doorknob, she grasped it, beginning to turn- and felt Earl's hands on her shoulders, easily pulling her away. She turned jerkily and socked him in the center of his chest, a blow hard enough to kill a normal man, but Earl didn't even flinch. Enraged by his lack of reaction, Faith hit him again, then again, her anger increasing as he continued to stand and take it, showing no sign of pain and not fighting back. She screamed at him, insulting him, unaware of what she was saying, only of the strong emotion surging through her as she put all of her effort into an attack that seemed to have no effect on him whatsoever.

When her movements finally slowed, then stopped, her fists coming to rest against Earl's chest, Faith was trembling, barely able to keep herself upright and from sagging completely against him. She felt weak, raw, and perilously close to tears. Her breath came in uneven staggers, her face was flushed with feeling, and she blinked rapidly, afraid to look up at Earl…afraid of what he might say and do to her now.

Earl looked down at her, his brow furrowed slightly, and still no anger showed in his gaze, or even frustration. Still there was only sadness, even empathy…and as Faith trembled, fixing her gaze on his wings instead of his face, he slowly began to move them forward, encircling her in a gentle embrace.

For Faith, the change was immediate and intense. The moment Earl's wings touched her and she was enveloped in their light, all hurt, all anger, all grief, every negative emotion that had been coursing through her so strongly simply floated away. Flowing into her in its place was a strong, steady calm and peacefulness, a growing contentment so warm and soothing that she closed her eyes, a deep sigh escaping her. She had never felt so safe and comforted in her life…so full of quiet joy.

She didn't want to speak, to step away, to have anything else intrude on that moment. If she could have stayed suspended in time, wrapped in the circle of Earl's wings, she would have done so without a second thought about it.

"This is what you could have, child," he said softly, his voice just reaching her ears, slowly seeping into her consciousness. "This is the power of God's love…this is the power of faith."

Slowly he unfolded his wings, then drew them back within his shoulderblades, so they were no longer visible at all as he stepped back from Faith. She swayed slightly, somewhat dazed, and the sense of wholeness and peace began to fade, but along with it, the negative emotions she had felt before seemed lesser too.

"Damn," she voiced softly; it was the only thing she could think to say, and Earl continued to regard her, holding her gaze.

"Long as you're running and hiding and denying what's real and true, you ain't never gonna have that all on your own, Faith," he told her quietly. "Why do you do that, Faith, why do you fight what you feel?"

Normally Faith would have bristled at a question so personal, a question that was no one's business. Normally she would refuse to answer, sneering that if God knew everything already, Earl ought to be able to read her mind to know anything he wanted to know about her. But she was still somewhat stunned, somehow outside herself and her body mentally after Earl's winged embrace, and she heard herself answering in a slow, quiet voice.

"It's weak. No point to it. Does you no good."

"Feelings do you a good you don't' realize, Faith," Earl countered, shaking his head. "Feelings- good, bad, sad, mad, whatever they might be- they're what keep you human."

Faith shook her head, inhaling. She was calmer, but far from steady, her head beginning to ache, a barrage of thoughts filling her mind once more that she couldn't put words to. Shaking her head again, she put voice to the most predominant statement rather than a question.

"This…none of this makes sense."

"No?" Earl raised an eyebrow, turning over one hand to display his palms. "And I reckon stealing does? Lying? Having sexual relations with a bunch of people you don't know from Adam and ain't never gonna see again? Denying when you need help until it's so bad there ain't much of nothing no human can do to help you through? Those sound like they make sense either?"

Though his voice was mild, Faith felt their reproof, and she looked away, having no response. She tried to feel anger, to draw together the defensiveness that usually was so easily within her, but now, it wasn't coming. She just couldn't bring herself to feel it.

What the hell had Earl and his wings done to her?

"You ain't much more than a child, Faith," Earl said quietly, and Faith drew herself together for a comeback for that one before he could finish his thought, forcing an antagonism she didn't really feel.

"Yeah, and it was Jesus who said to make all the kids suffer, wasn't it?"

"Just the opposite," Earl corrected, shaking his head. "What Jesus said was to suffer the little children to come UNTO him…what he meant, was to let them come to him, and don't put anything in their paths to hold him back. What he meant, was that children were cherished by him as much as any grown people, if not more."

"Another strike against me, then, because I'm no child," Faith muttered, crossing her arms and shaking her hair back from her face, and Earl smiled, as always, ready with a response.

"You're seventeen years old, Faith. You got a lot of growing up to do yet. You think a being older than time, or even one as old as me, don't look at a girl your age and think of her as a child? It don't matter how old you are anyway, don't matter if you're 300…you're still God's child. At least you will be, once I'm done with you."

Faith's jaw tensed, and she lifted her eyes to his quickly, intending to dispute that. But Earl's hand clasped her shoulder briefly, and all confrontation disappeared from her tongue.

"I'm gonna leave you be to think of that for a while, Faith. Be seeing you soon."

Removing his hand from her shoulder, Earl disappeared, his form quickly evaporating into the air before her. Faith stood still, her eyes fixed on the spot where he had formerly stood.


	5. 5

Chapter 5

"Deal the cards and roll the dice  
Sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll are my only vice"

Everlast, "Saving Grace"

Once Earl was gone, it was easier to talk herself out of everything he had said, and everything he had made her feel. Faith was pretty sure he was real by now- not entirely sure, but PRETTY sure- but all the stuff he'd been saying about her needing to give herself to God, and God loving her and all that religious mumbo jumbo? The guy might be an angel, but that didn't mean he knew what he was talking about. Maybe he dropped out of Angel Academy, for all Faith knew.

But whatever she told herself about what Earl said, she couldn't forget how he had FELT, the sense of serenity, the completeness she had felt within the circle of his wings, like something that was always bucking and beating away inside her had finally settled. And now that Earl was gone, her heart beat very fast, and she swallowed frequently, attempting to resettle her focus on something- anything- other than continued consideration of the screwiest angel she could have possibly imagined up.

It was late afternoon, and Faith wanted desperately to leave the room that suddenly seemed even more claustrophobic than usual, as though lingering remnants of Earl's presence filled up every corner. School should be letting out for Buffy and the gang soon…the last thing Faith wanted or needed was an assignment to read a bunch of ancient books about toad demons or something from Giles, or another lecture from Wuss-ley about dressing like a proper Slayer, whatever the hell that meant, and sitting with her legs closed or whatever.

But she wouldn't mind hanging with Buffy some. If Earl really had erased the bad parts from last night, then everything with Buffy was the same as always. And that meant it was time to give Buffy more lessons in finding the fun…or at least head over to her house for a snack, or maybe even dinner, because Faith hadn't eaten anything all day and her stomach was letting her know in full force. And Mrs. Summers always had tons of food laying around, way more than she and Buffy Toothpick could ever eat.

This decided, Faith headed towards her door, pushing Earl entirely from her thoughts, and focused her attention on trying to come up with a way she could casually steer Buffy towards inviting her over, preferably for dinner, without outright asking her. It was a trickier thing than a person might think.

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By the time Faith had entered the school's library, there were only a few minutes remaining until the final bell for the day was to ring. She looked around the library quickly as she came up alongside the table where Giles bent over slightly, stacking textbooks that looked to Faith like they belonged in a museum instead of a high school library. Didn't anyone in Sunnydale read Harry Potter or Sarah Dessen? Then again, the way this library was used, Giles probably did that on purpose, tried to make the place as unappealing to normal teens as possible so they wouldn't go poking their nose into Slayer business.

Giles glanced up as she came to stand beside him, shifting her weight so one hip jutted out and crossing her arms, and smiled at her quickly, giving a brief nod of acknowledgement.

"Ah, hello, Faith, you'll be joining us today?"

"Probably not," she said honestly, turning her head to look around herself again, and continued, "Where is Wuss-ley, he get called back to his mother country, or did he just go out for an order of tea and strumpets or something?"

Giles's mouth twitched, and Faith grinned to herself; though he wouldn't outright say so, Giles's sarcastic asides and quiet support of her and Buffy's defiance of Wesley made it clear he disliked and resented him as much as Buffy did, and was as contemptuous of him as Faith was.

"I believe you mean tea and crumpets, Faith, as a strumpet is a streetwalker," he replied, and when Faith snorted in glee with that proclamation, he continued, "I believe he went to get some training materials- he mentioned something about a Slayer handbook."

"Well screw that," Faith replied, rolling her eyes, and then smirked, eyes glinting with sudden mischievous intent as an idea struck her. Ducking to squat behind the table near Giles's feet, she whispered just before the bell rang, "I'm not here, alright?"

"What?" Giles asked, looking down at her with bemusement, but she shushed him, gesturing for him to return to his book. This was gonna be good.

Within a few minutes the feet stampeding down the hall outside the library door were brought closers as it swung open, and several pairs of feet and loudly talking voices she recognized as Willow's, Buffy's, and Xander's stepped inside. As they headed towards the table, not looking down to notice Faith crouched beside it, she couldn't resist; she reached out and grabbed Xander's ankle.

The resulting yelp was of amusingly high pitch, enough to make everyone jump as Xander scuttled backward, his eyes darting from his leg to where Faith had hidden herself with his eyes wide with shock. "Faith!" he choked, embarrassment flooding his features and flushing his face as she snickered. "What the-"

"Shh, Wes is gonna come in, watch this," she smirked, and as the others looked from her to the door instinctively, Wesley chose that moment to breeze through, head held high, a stack of helmets, pads, and a rather thick and dull-looking book loaded in his arms.

"Ah, I see we are all gathered promptly then? Very well, as we all know I expect promptness in the event of all trainings," he blustered, smiling in an irritatingly self-satisfied manner. "Now, where is Faith, however? That young woman really must-"

Faith never let him continue on with what she "really must" do, however, because she chose that moment to spring to her feet from her hidden position, growling like a bear. The result was exactly as she had hoped. If she'd thought Xander's yell to be high, Wesley's put it to shame, rising a full octave, and the near terror in his face sent Faith, along with everyone else, into a guffawing burst of laughter as everything Wesley had been carrying flew up into the air. As it all crashed down around him in various positions, the heavy book hitting him on the head for good measure, even Giles was smirking. Wesley sputtered, more mortified than he was angry, though the attempted to cover this.

"Faith! There, there is no time for such foolishness- there, there is much work to be done, very important work, and you must-"

"Yeah, don't feel like it," Faith shrugged, smirking, and she linked her arm through Buffy's, easily steering her towards the library's double doors. "You know Wes, you really oughtta see about joining chorus, they could use a good first soprano, I bet…come on B, let's motor."

"Uh, how are we motoring if neither of us have a car, or even an especially high-tech bicycle?" Buffy questioned wryly as Wesley flushed and sputtered behind them, Xander snickered, and Giles smirked, not bothering to hide the fact that he was watching Wesley with no small amusement. Only Willow's eyes were on Buffy's and Faith's retreating backs, her features tense as she watched them go. Faith ignored her as she pushed open the doors.

"It's a thing, B, get with the times and out of Britishland," Faith shook her head, keeping her arm casually through Buffy's as she lead her down the hall and out the front of the building. She wasn't sure where she was taking Buffy or what they would do; she hadn't got that far into her plans. But the screwing with Xander and Wesley, and now heading out with Buffy, it was a good distraction, and that was exactly what she'd been going for in the first place.

Buffy, however, though she followed willingly, required a more detailed explanation.

"Where are we going?" she questioned as she let Faith take her down the sidewalk and between two buildings, looking around herself.

Faith shifted her eyes towards her, raising an eyebrow. "You want to go back and alphabetize the parchment scrolls, or whatever Wes has planned that isn't too "dangerous?"

"No," Buffy rolled her eyes, her lower lip pouting unconsciously as she thought of the bespectacled man proclaiming himself to be their Watcher, and Faith smiled.

"Then what does it matter where we're going so long as it's away?"

"Good point," the other Slayer admitted, and she let Faith continue on without further comment, easily keeping up with the taller girl's confident strides.

Somehow Faith's rather random turns ended up taking them to a cemetery, and though it was broad daylight still, she acted as if it had been her chosen destination all along. Still keeping Buffy close with her arm, she stepped through its heavy iron gates, beginning to make her way along the path and to weave in between the graves.

Buffy's eyebrows rose again, and she slowed her pace, lagging behind Faith slightly now so her arm was extended backward to keep in contact.

"Uh, Faith, you do realize that it's still daylight, right?" she pointed out, and Faith shrugged, coming to a stop and turning around to face her.

"Of course. Though we could hang out here a while, is all."

"Because we don't do that enough at night on patrol, or anything," Buffy replied, smiling slightly, and Faith shook her head.

"No, that's different, that's kicking ass, not chilling out….it's quiet out here, no one around, is all. Thought it would be good place to hang…unless you're scared," Faith smirked, knowing the last part would get Buffy's pride riled up, and sure enough, Buffy lifted her head quickly, eyes wide.

"Like I'm scared of a cemetery in the sunlight. Dream on, F."

"Then what's the problem?" Faith smiled, sitting down abruptly with her back against a headstone and almost pulling Buffy down with her when she didn't immediately let go of her arm. "Come on."

As Buffy sat down more slowly beside her, her shoulder and knee brushing Faith's, Faith pretended not to notice, not pulling away. She had to restrain herself from glancing over at where the physical contact had been made, however, and acting as if a sudden warmth, almost an ache, had not enclosed itself around her chest was more difficult that she would have thought.

Buffy had started to talk- some kind of babbling rant that touched on her mom, Giles, her mom AND Giles, as in, together, and a run of other topics that Faith had no interest in- well, except Mrs. Summers and Giles together, now THAT was a scream- and Faith mostly tuned her out, letting her words wash over her without feeling she needed to respond. What she did notice was the angel statue, two graves across from where they were sitting. Faith hadn't noticed it until she sat down; now, she couldn't seem to look away.

Was this another trick of Earl's?

She tried to look only at Buffy, and then to look towards the ground, avoiding looking at the statue straight on, but it was always there, lurking in the corner of her eye, and she would lift her gaze to it again before she could stop herself. It didn't look anything like Earl, of course. It was a proper stone angel, with a female cherubic face, a flowing gown, and wings that were small and even instead of spanning 15 feet. Still, just seeing that stupid angel, Faith couldn't stop thinking about Earl, dammit, and she found herself cutting Buffy off mid sentence, her voice not as casual as she would have liked.

"B. You ever think about religion, or anything like that?" she asked, and Buffy blinked, her eyes shifting to meet Faith's as she frowned slightly, confused by the shift in topic.

"Uh, no…actually I use humor and distraction to avoid it as much as possible," she said wryly, shaking her head. "Why?"

"You believe in God?" Faith persisted, sidestepping that question even as she couldn't stop from asking the next. Buffy's brow furrowed as she answered, watching Faith.

"Jury's out on that one…why, Faith?"

"What about angels?" Faith persisted, and even she could tell that her voice was more serious than it should be, that her face probably looked as intense and bothered as she felt. "You believe in angels?"

"Angels? Like, the kind with wings and haloes?" Buffy questioned.

Faith muttered to herself more than her, "Well, wings anyway, no halo."

"Not really," Buffy replied, and she was clearly concerned now, her eyes narrowed slightly as she turned to face Faith full on. "Why are you asking all this? What's going on?"

For a few moments Faith considered telling her. For a few moments she hesitated, and the words stood on the tip of her tongue. But then she tried to imagine telling her about not just an angel, but EARL the angel, Earl with his tobacco and flannel and Mountain Dew…she tried to picture herself telling Buffy about the night before, about her bloodstained stake and the disappeared body. She tried to imagine telling Buffy that she was a murderer, even if it had been erased, even if it was an accident. She imagined how Buffy would edge away from her, how her eyes would change, and she couldn't do it.

So instead she shrugged, keeping her voice and expression nonchalant before smiling at Buffy.

"No reason…just keeping you on your toes. You want to patrol with me tonight?"

Buffy's eyebrows slanted, her eyes meeting Faith's in a guilty manner, and Faith knew her response before she said a word.

"Well…I kind of promised Will I'd study with her tonight, since I bailed the last time or…or three…and after skipping out on the chem test, I'd better actually go this time."

"Oh, come on, just have her copy her notes in class for you," Faith tried, shaking Buffy's shoulder lightly, and Buffy's mouth tipped, her hesitation obvious as she responded slowly.

"I did pretty much swear on a menorah to her, Faith…you know, we've been hanging out a lot lately, which, which of course is great," she added quickly, her eyes widening as she realized how she was starting to sound. "I mean, I would way rather go patrolling than study. It's just, you know, I haven't been doing much with her lately, and, and she's probably right about me needing to study…and with us doing Slayer things, and everything, I think she feels kind of left out."

Left out. Sort of how Faith felt, every time she wasn't invited to meetings and sleepovers and group meals, every time everyone acted like she was just a dumb, skanky high school dropout, a backup, second rate Slayer, instead of judging her on her own self, her own merits. Or maybe that was exactly what they did…maybe that was, in fact, the problem, that their judgment was true.

Carefully concealing the irritation, resentment, and predominant disappointment rising inside her, Faith shrugged carelessly, giving a quick smile.

"It's five by five, B. Later then."

"Maybe if I finish early, Willow and I can meet you after at the Bronze?" Buffy added in a rush, her tone hopeful, seeking to smooth over the rejection. "You don't mind patrolling alone, right? If you want, you can get Oz or Xander-"

"Xander, who can't walk ten feet without tripping, and Oz, who is shorter than I am?" Faith snorted, shaking her head. "Thanks B, I think I've got it."

"Okay…well, maybe I'll see you at the Bronze then," Buffy repeated, seeming relieved by Faith's seeming ease.

"Yeah," Faith nodded, but her tone was already distant, other plans being formulated in her mind; the last thing she wanted was to be so pathetic as to hang around all night waiting for someone who may or may not show. If she went to the Bronze tonight, no way in hell was she going to come home alone.

She got to her feet abruptly, brushing off her backside, and informed Buffy that she had stuff to do. But as she walked away, even Faith knew the main reason she was leaving was to prevent Buffy from somehow reading too deeply into the look in her eyes.

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Patrol was uneventful that night; Faith slayed two vampires within a span of two hours, and by then she was bored and restless, ready to move onto a more constant action. Stuffing her stake into her belt, she began to stride in the direction of the Bronze, calling it an early night. If Buffy was there, five by five. If not, well, Faith could find the fun on her own.

The Bronze was crowded, to be fairly early in the evening; through the throngs of people talking, laughing, and holding precariously balanced drinks, she squeezed her way towards the dance floor, just reaching its edge when she heard someone call her name. Turning her head, Faith saw Xander coming towards her, his pants dragging over his shoes, flannel shirt over t-shirt unbuttoned and flapping behind him. He smiled and waved even as he drew closer.

"Hey, Faith- thought you were on patrol tonight," he remarked, and his eyes began their usual and probably mostly involuntary scan of her form, pausing at the stake jutting out slightly from her hip. "Been there, slayed that?"

"Something like that," she said, her eyes roving past him to scan the ground behind him. "Buffy here yet?"

"No, not that I've seen- I think she and Will are studying," he replied, and he was watching her with a continued self-conscious air, as if he were trying to make a decision.

"So, you come here alone?" Faith asked, unable to keep the slightly mocking tone from her voice and the smirk from her lips too. Sure, maybe she had come alone too, but the difference between her and Xander was she wouldn't be leaving alone.

But Xander didn't seem to get the insinuation. If anything, he seemed to take it as innuendo, and brightened, noticeably hopeful.

"Yeah, and you did too…so now we can be alone, here, together. Which, by definition, isn't actually alone. So, uh, you want to sit down, get a drink? I can pay. I can't pay a LOT, but I can handle a drink or two. Or-"

"No, I'm here to dance," Faith cut him off, somewhat annoyed, somewhat amused, by his insistence. She started to turn towards the dance floor again, dismissing him. But Xander called her again, awkwardly taking hold of her arm.

"Sure, we can dance. I mean, I can make movements that loosely correlate with the word dance, and you can-"

"I want to dance with someone who's going to screw me afterward," Faith clarified, looking Xander in the eye and speaking distinctly and dismissively. "Sorry, man, but that's not you."

She didn't look back at Xander's face as she turned back towards the dance floor, slipping her way into the center of its gyrating masses. Within minutes she had attached herself to an attractive man in his early twenties with tattoos up and down his arms and pierced ears, a man who knew how to move in exactly the way she liked. Forty minutes, lots of public foreplay, and one hurried, very touchy walk to her motel room later, both Faith and her newest conquest- Rob?- were hot, bothered, and more than ready for action.

Stripping Rob's shirt off as she stood at the foot of her bed, Faith kissed him deeply, then pushed at his chest to send him sprawling back onto her bed. Grinning seductively, she informed him she'd be right back and he'd better be waiting and ready before she slipped inside her small bathroom to retrieve a pack of condoms.

But as she stepped inside the bathroom, it took all her effort not to scream in combined shock and frustration as she quickly slammed the door shut behind her. For there was Earl, sitting casually on her closed toilet seat, a wad of tobacco rolled into one cheek. As she glared down at him furiously, he looked up with a pleasant smile, shaking his head.

"You know, Faith, I'd give you a scarlet letter, but something tells me you'd take it as a grade for a sexual performance."


	6. 6

"Tryin' to figure out just what's here after (here after)"

Everlast, "Saving Grace"

Chapter 6

This could not be happening.

Surely there wasn't really an angel in her bathroom now, of all times- a long-haired, tobacco-chewing angel with what looked like grease stained on the front of his beat up gray jacket. There could not be an angle blocking her way to her condoms as the guy she was about to screw waited for her on the other side of the door.

But there Earl was, sitting as if Faith's closed toilet was his usual chair of choice, smiling calmly at her like he was just knowing she'd welcome him with open arms- or maybe like he was getting a kick out of knowing she wouldn't.

No. No, no, just no, NO!

"Look, I know you like to pop up on me out of nowhere like a stripper on a birthday cake," Faith hissed, keeping her voice as low as possible so Rob, in her room, wouldn't hear and think she was talking to herself. "But there's no way you're staying in here. I've got plans. So get out, Earl, alright?"

"Get out?" Earl chuckled, shaking his head, but there was reproof in his tone as well. "You oughtta know by now that ain't how it works, Faith. You invited me into your life, and I ain't about to leave you just on your say-so. When me and God move in, we're in all the way here, Faith."

"How many times do I have to tell you, I didn't INVITE either one of you!" Faith snapped, her voice rising slightly, and from the other side of the door she heard Rob's voice call out to her.

"Faith? You talking to me?"

She gritted her teeth, glaring in Earl's direction as she yelled back her reply.

"No! Trying to find condoms!"

"You want help?"

"No, I've got it!" she yelled back, her teeth grinding further, and Earl chuckled again.

"We established by now you did ask for help, Faith, and saying you didn't ain't gonna make it so."

"If you've got to do this pop in like an extremely irritating ghost thing, then, then we're gonna have to set up a schedule. But guess what, we're not doing it now, or any time soon," she shot back. "So move out of the way so I can get my condoms, got it?"

Shoving past Earl's knees, Faith knelt down by the area of the small storage space where she kept towels and tampons and condoms, irritated by how her body had to press against both the outer wall of the tub and Earl's leg in order to do so in the cramped space. But although the condoms should have been in plain sight, she couldn't find them.

They had to be there. She had just got a new box the other day, there was no way they were already gone. But as Faith felt all around the space, it was clear that the box wasn't there. What the hell?

She started looking around the small, bare space of the bathroom, including behind the toilet and inside the tub, but the condoms weren't there. Had Earl not still been sitting on her toilet calmly watching her, she would have went into the room and looked around there, but he was, so Faith spun on him, glaring at him even more mutinously.

"I know I never take them back into my room! You did something with them, didn't you?" she accused, jabbing a finger at him, and Earl smirked.

"Let's just say those condoms just mysteriously made their way back onto the shelf."

"You stole my condoms?" Faith yelped, not remembering to keep her voice down this time, and Rob called out again, sounding somewhat offended as well as confused.

"I didn't steal shit, what are you talking about? You can't find them?"

"No!" Faith yelled back, her voice more snappy than she'd intended. "Give me a minute already!"

She turned back to Earl, repeating in a more controlled voice, "You STOLE my condoms?"

"You stole them first, Faith. I just put them back where they belonged," Earl countered, and she blinked, thrown. What, he'd been watching when she did that too?

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she hissed, her eyes darting towards the bathroom door as if on guard against the increasingly baffled Rob before focusing back on Earl. "You WANT me to be pregnant? What, am I supposed to be the next mother of God? Hate to break it to you, Earl, but I haven't been a virgin for a long time. The Savior coming out of ME would be a miracle for sure."

"Of course not," Earl shook his head. "And we ain't here to talk about what's wrong with me either, though we could take up a good space of time doing it. Angel might mean holy, but it sure don't mean perfect. We're here to talk about what's wrong with YOU, Faith. And mostly we're here to get a plan set."

Plan? If he wanted her to sign Heaven's Constitution or something, the guy had another thing coming, angel or not.

"Look, what I've got planned is to get laid," Faith snapped, putting one hand on her hip and gesturing for emphasis with her other. "You want to sit and listen, be my guest, as long as you don't try to join in. Getting it on with a dead guy is too icky for my tastes- might want to hit up Buffy for that one."

She turned quickly towards the door, even going so far as to grasp the knob, but Earl caught hold of her wrist in his other hand, pulling her around to face him with surprising strength.

"Can you explain to me how come you can have sex with a boy you don't know, but can't give the time of day to one who'd protect you with his life?" he asked in seeming casual inquiry, but Faith knew better. His eyes were shrewd, focused on her face, and his grip on her wrist was much more firm than she would have expected from him.

"Who, you?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "How are you going to give your life protecting me if you're already dead?"

"Not me, silly girl," Earl answered, but his eyes were still serious, focused on hers. "The Harris boy…Xander."

Faith blinked again, then snickered, lips quirking as she held up both hands. Was the guy serious…XANDER?

"You want me to sleep with XANDER again? Are you freakin' kidding me?"

"Now, I didn't say that, did I?" Earl retorted, rolling his tobacco into his other cheek before spitting a stream into Faith's trash can, to her disgust. "I would've preferred for you not to do that in the first place, especially since it meant so little to you."

"Well maybe that's because he was so little to me," Faith quipped, smirking at her own innuendo, and Earl eyed her with clear disapproval.

"There's no call for that kind of talk, Faith. And that's a lie besides. Seemed to me at the time that you were enjoying yourself pretty good."

At that offhand remark, Faith's jaw dropped, her eyes widening. What the…Earl had SEEN that? That was almost a week ago!

"You watched me having sex with Xander?" she exclaimed in part astonishment, part indignation, and also with some amusement she couldn't quite rid herself of. "What did you do, hide under the bed, lay on the ceiling? You're a total perve, don't give me that shit about being some holy God figure!"

"Just because no one stepped down and spoke your name from the heavens didn't mean no one was watching, Faith," Earl said mildly, shrugging. "If you humans had a clue what people up there see, they'd be acting a lot closer to perfect than they do now, I reckon. Probably more heart attacks too though, so maybe it all balances out."

Faith shook her head, her fists balling at her sides. This latest development was just too much, and she shook her head, barking a short laugh as she reached for the doorknob.

"You like to listen? That what you get off on? Then go for it, I don't give a shit."

"Hey- is there someone IN there with you?" Rob called from the other side of the door, starting to sound pissed as well as bemused, and Faith clinched her jaw, calling back as she turned the knob.

"NO, dammit, and you're just gonna have to pull out, because I can't find the damn condoms. I'm coming, chill out-"

But as she turned the doorknob and attempted to push it open, it refused to do so. Faith scowled, turning it again more violently and almost wrenching it off in the process. But the door remained stuck shut, and as she rattled the knob with increasing irritation, it appeared that short of her kicking it down, it would not open on its own.

Behind her Earl sat placidly, smiling his infuriating smile as he watched her without comment. This only amplified her anger, and she twisted the knob extremely hard- certainly hard enough, between her Slayer strength and the cheap motel materials, to have taken the knob straight off the door.

But it remained firmly on. And still, the door did not open. And to make matters worse, the increasingly miffed and impatient Rob was yelling at her again.

"Did you lock yourself into the fucking bathroom, or what? What the hell are you doing in there, shooting up, cleaning the ceiling? Get out here already!"

"Will you shut up!" Faith yelled back, kicking the door with no small amount of force. She expected it to swing open barely hanging on its hinges, to crack in the middle, to fall over onto the floor- but to open, in some way. But it didn't. It stayed solid and firmly shut, and there was no doubt in her mind that Earl had done this too.

She kicked the door again, then again, with no results; on the other side of the door Rob was yelling again, asking her what the hell she was doing, if she was crazy, that she should just open the door instead of trying to kick it down like a total nutso. She ignored him, fury at both his words and her inability to take down a door that should have been pounded into the ground in splinters surging through her, and by the time she had given up on opening it by force and whirled around to face the still calmly watching Earl, her face was flushed, her eyes narrowed and blazing fiercely, her fists balled.

"What did you do to the door?" she growled, and Earl replied coolly, raising his eyebrows.

"You always try to work out your problems with your fists first and words later? Seems like all that does it make it take longer to get what you want, Faith."

"I am NOT in the mood for this shit," she hissed, towering over him where he was still seated, leaning towards him in a threatening manner. "What did you DO, let me out!"

"You ain't getting out until you're ready to listen," Earl replied, crossing his arms and leaning back as he met her eyes. "We got some plans to be made and some tasks to be set, and it seems like you ain't gonna sit still long enough to do it if I don't give you no other choices. So that's what I had to do here. Faster you listen, faster we both can get on with business."

Faith blinked, crossing her arms in an unconscious mirroring of Earl's posture as she frowned, easing back from him.

"Tasks? What the hell does that mean, TASKS?"

"Well, that's a good one to start with, to stop cussing so much," Earl leveled, raising an eyebrow, and Faith growled under her breath, shifting her weight onto one foot.

"Like I am. Why the hell should I?" she smirked, deliberately swearing twice as often in her reply, and Earl's face remained calm even as his voice grew quite serious in his reply.

"I think you will, Faith. 'Cause one day, you might start cussin' up a storm, and then, you might find you ain't got a mouth to cuss with anymore."

At that proclamation, Faith snorted, dimples flickering in and out of her cheeks. Was that the best he could do- threaten to take her mouth away? Did he think she was two years old, to fall for that?

"Oh, screw you, Earl- might make you feel better," she tossed out…and suddenly felt her lips press tightly together, sticking, beginning to mesh together into one smooth expanse of skin before spreading out into unmarred flesh, not unlike that of the skin of her cheek. As Faith's eyes bulged and her hands flew to the place where her mouth had been, frantically fingering its now empty space, she tried with rapidly escalating desperation to open a mouth that no longer existed. And Earl just sat there and watched, eyebrows raised, like he was making a point or something. He could have all the damn points he wanted, just let her have her mouth back, GIVE HER HER MOUTH BACK!

When Faith started to scrape her fingernails into the expanse between her nose and chin in an effort to scratch past the skin to where the mouth must be buried beneath, she found her fingers catching inside lips that were suddenly returned to her again, as normal as ever. She felt them with shaking fingers, checking them for injury or abnormality, as her heart galloped wildly in her chest and she gasped for breath, though she had been perfectly able to breathe through her nose at the time. Turning wide eyes that were more shellshocked than infuriated in Earl's direction, though anger was abundantly present as well, she sputtered, struggling for a response.

"You- you- what the- you-"

It took extreme effort to bite back all the swear words streaming rapidly though her mind, threatening to burst forth unchecked through her mouth, but fear of becoming mouthless forever won out, and she eventually was able to form a somewhat coherent sentence.

"You're- you're not an angel!"

"Maybe not the kind of angel you've heard of in Precious Moments books or Hallmark commercials," Earl said patiently, steepling his fingers and exhaling as he looked at Faith more gently. "But that don't make me any less real. I'm never gonna hurt you, Faith. That ain't what I'm here for- and it looks to me like you're more than capable of doing that all on your own. But I ain't above doing what it takes to get your attention. So let me ask you again, Faith…you ready to listen now?"

When Faith glowered in his direction, but nodded jerkily, still nervously feeling her lips with one hand, Earl smiled, reaching out to squeeze her forearm briefly. Even though Faith wanted to pull away from his touch, even though she wanted to want nothing to do with him, even that brief contact sent a rush of calm though her that she didn't want to pull away from.

"Good. Now, you got a lot to change, Faith, a lot to work on to better your life and make you a happy person, bring you close to God. There's the cussing, of course- we went over that. Now understand I ain't gonna crack down on you every time for that, or any of this, because this ain't about a list of dos and don'ts and following my word to a T. It's about a process, a gradual change, and it ain't for me or anyone else, or even God. God don't need you to do or be anything, because His love for you don't' have any conditions going along with it. God IS love, Faith, that's just what He does. No, all this is for you, to make YOU happier."

"Thanks," Faith muttered with clear sarcasm, exhaling. "So what else then, other than the swearing."

"Well there's the occasional smoking," Earl started, and when Faith looked in disbelief at the wad of dip still stuffed in the corner of his mouth, he shook his head at her. "You turn eighteen, Faith, you can have twenty packs a day, make your lungs black as coal if that's what you think's gonna help your Slayer endurance be at its best. Right now though, you're underage, smoking's illegal, end of story there, girl. Same with drinking. And of course there's the matter of how you GET your smokes and drinks, and this is where we come to sex and stealing. Some more things you've gotta work on. Also includes giving a lie about your age, and lying is another issue you've got to work on-"

"What?" Faith blurted, and Earl finished calmly.

"Of course, getting you into church and praying and reading a Bible is gonna be the hardest part, I'd expect."

"Wait a minute, just wait one second here, "Faith almost laughed, holding up her hands and shaking her head. "You're telling me that I've got to be this perfect person- this non-smoking, non-drinking, non-swearing, non-stealing person, who doesn't lie or have sex, who goes to church, prays, and reads the Bible and actually understands it, and I have to do it all at once? Why don't you just kill me right now because THAT IS FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth Faith flinched, her hands nervously and protectively covering her mouth, but Earl let it slide that time. He just smiled, shaking his head.

"Nothing is impossible with God or faith, Faith. And of course we don't expect you to do it all at once. I don't expect a miracle- though God can do them, of course."

"Right," she muttered, "there have been so many damn miracles in my life."

She looked up fast, again expecting to be punished with mouth-loss, but Earl laughed.

"Don't worry, Faith, cussing ain't the first thing you're gonna work on. As for miracles- you're still here, ain't you? You're a girl with amazing powers and a potential to be even more extraordinary than you already are. And you're talking to an angel. What more do you want, girl?"

He did have a point there.

"What we're gonna work on first is getting you safe, settled, and connected," Earl continued, and Faith countered quickly.

"I am, so we can skip that."

"Are you kidding me?" Earl shook his head, laughing. "You live in a rundown motel room where vampires can come calling any time they want to and kill you in your sleep. You don't got food, clothes, or anything else without stealing or worse to get it. You've got nothing permanent or healthy in your life, and you haven't told no one about how things were for you, or even how they are now. You're drowning, Faith, and you won't even yell for help, let alone let someone drag you to the surface."

Faith's jaw tightened; she didn't like to hear about herself being described in that way, and even more, she didn't want to even consider whether it was true. So she shook her head roughly, but didn't speak, as Earl continued.

"We're gonna tackle just about everything wrong you got going on in your life, Faith. Making friends, REAL friends, the kind you can talk to, the kind who will help you through so you won't need an angel to do it later on. Your past and everything that goes with that, how it makes you today…school, that motel room of yours, and of course, getting you into church-"

"If I've got to do all that you might as well just shoot me now," Faith repeated, shaking her head. "Because there is no way in hell ANY of that is happening."

"Oh, it'll all happen, Faith," Earl smiled. "One day at a time. Now, we're gonna start with two things to work on for your first day to the new you. And you're gonna do them, because we like our mouth and all the rest of your body parts where they are, don't we, Faith?" he chuckled.

Faith glowered, her back teeth grinding down hard, but didn't protest. She WAS afraid he might make good on his seemingly jolly threat. Figures the God sent angel SHE gets would be the practical joker rather than the cherubic mother Teresa type.

"So the first thing you're gonna do tomorrow is go to Xander Harris and patch things up, apologize for last night, and that comment you made at the Bronze," Earl continued, and she blinked.

Apologize to Xander? Really…that was it? Not stopping swearing or smoking or drinking or even sex, not going back to school or going to church?

There had to be a catch. Saying she was sorry for being rude was entirely too easy.

"That's it?" she asked suspiciously. "Just apologize to Xander?"

"Yep, for your first assignment," Earl replied, but Faith was wary of his smile…she knew the catch was coming.

"And my second assignment?"

"And," Earl finished, and Faith could hear the smirk on his face as well as see it. "For one day, you can't lie. Not even a white lie. One whole day, whatever you say, whatever people ask of you, you've gotta tell the truth."

And there it was, the catch that was more like a noose.

Faith's mouth opened, and she sputtered, shaking her head. "What the hell?"

"You heard me," Earl replied calmly, crossing his arms. "And you're gonna do it. And you ain't getting out of it by sleeping all day or staying in your room. You're gonna apologize to Xander and see his friends, and you're also not gonna tell one single lie."

"How the hell would you even KNOW if I did or not?" Faith blustered, crossing her own arms and lifting her chin, and Earl just smiled.

"Oh, I'll know, girl. You don't think I'll be watching my own God-sent charge? I take my angel duties seriously, child."

Figures she wouldn't get a slacker for an angel either.

"And if I don't?" she tested, still trying to look and sound more defiant than worried, and Earl chuckled again.

"If you don't, you'll be a lot sorrier than if you do, let's put it like that."

Faith scowled more intensely, knowing very well that this was undoubtedly true. She wrestled with this for a few more moments, wanting in no way to agree to his idiotic "assignments," even as she feared what might happen if she refused. Finally, she said in a mutter, "You suck, Earl."

"So I hear," he smiled. "I'll take that as agreement, then."

"I'm not going to church!" she said hurriedly, and Earl laughed.

"No, not yet. See you tomorrow, Faith. And remember, I'm watching."

That said, he suddenly spread his wings, their length almost causing them to burst through the tiny interior of the bathroom and forcing Faith to flatten her back against the wall. She glowered in his direction, now vacant, for several moments before taking a slow breath, trying to control the racing of her heart. When she finally stood, turning to open the bathroom door with shaking hands as she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, preparing to smooth talk over the guy who must totally not be in the mood anymore, she was trying hard to shove all thoughts of Earl from her consciousness.

But when she opened the door and let her eyes flit about the room, taking in its rather disheveled and unattractive interior, it became apparent that his silence for the last several minutes had not been due to Rob falling asleep. The guy was gone.

Fucking figures…and Earl, if you're reading my mind, get the hell out!

Flopping down on her back on her bed, Faith stared at the ceiling, letting out a slow breath.

Damn.


	7. 7

Chapter 7

When Faith awakened it appeared to be late morning or early afternoon, judging by the strength of the sunlight breaking through her cheap window blinds. She was lying on her stomach, face turned to the side on her pillow, and she rolled over slowly to face the ceiling as her thoughts became more focused, and she remembered the previous night, her conversation with Earl, if you could call it that, and her two very reluctant tasks for the day.

Apologizing to Xander wouldn't be such a big deal; she could spit that out in two seconds and be off on her own way again, leaving him scratching his head and blinking. It was the not lying all day part that was bad. Because for Faith, getting through each day made it necessary to not exactly be a bright shining beacon of truth telling. What if someone asked her a direct question that she in no way in hell wanted them to know the answer to? Hell, what if she had to tell the truth about things no one had even asked her? What was this day anyway- was she under some kind of angel-whammy where she HAD to tell the truth and couldn't even control her own words, or was it just what she was SUPPOSED to do? Was Earl REALLY going to be watching her the whole day and making sure she was doing what he said? Didn't he have anything better to do?

Obviously not, since he had spent 45 minutes sitting on her toilet seat harassing her last night. It must be boring as hell in heaven was all Faith could figure.

She decided to test the ropes on Earl and his little "no lying" commandment. If she could get away with it here in her own motel room, there was no reason why she should have to do it anywhere else either.

Rolling out of bed and getting to her feet with a stretch, eyes narrowed in determination, Faith padded over towards her sink by her window and the small mirror hanging over it. Putting her hands on her hips, she stared at her reflection, arranging her features into the most wide-eyed parody of Buffy Summers she could manage and took the pitch of her voice up a notch or two in an effort to imitate the other Slayer.

"Hi, my name is Buffy Summers. I'm blonde, tiny, and I have a broody vampire boyfriend called Angel who has a suspicious obsession with hair gel."

It didn't happen immediately, so at first Faith smirked at herself in the mirror, dropping the "Buffy" posture and crossing her arms in a self-satisfied manner. So much for Earl and his dire proclamations of being so sorry for lying. She could lie all day if she wanted, and what would he do about it? He couldn't do anything with other people watching. Just for that, Faith was going to lie with almost every word she spoke today, just to show him how he-

And then she felt it suddenly, a growing warm sensation in her backside. Faith ignored it at first, not so much as glancing behind at herself. It wasn't an uncomfortable feeling, and it would probably go away in a few moments. Or maybe she was just horny, since Earl had chased away her screw buddy last night before she could do anything with him.

But the warmth steadily became heat, and then as Faith's head swiveled sharply, her hand fumbling to touch the seat of her pants, she was scared to the point of screaming out loud when her pants suddenly burst into flames.

She jumped, shrieking, eyes bulging with shock, horror, and no small amount of fear as a large flame burst directly from her backside, scorching the wall behind her. Frantically she turned on the sink in front of her as forcefully as it would go, twisting around to try to direct the flames under the water's flow, but they blazed on undaunted, no doubt the work of Earl. Smoke was beginning to fill the room, stinging Faith's eyes and choking her throat, and she yelled out desperately, "Okay, okay, I'm not Buffy, I'm Faith, Faith, shit, stop it already, I said I was FAITH!"

The moment the words left her mouth the flames were gone, extinguished as quickly as they had ignited. Eyes darting wildly, Faith coughed, waving a hand in front of her face to clear the clouds of smoke that had formed, and hurriedly stripped off her pants, twisting her head to check herself for burns. The pants were a lost cause, the backside missing now and blackened at the edges, but Faith's skin was somehow smooth and undamaged. And now that she thought about it, it hadn't really hurt…just scared the hell out of her, literally. Not to mention just stunk up her room worse than usual and ruined pants she couldn't afford to throw away.

She could almost hear Earl chuckling, could picture the amusement in his expression and the I-told-you-so in his eyes, and she growled, glaring fiercely as she threw the ruined pants across the room. Yeah, she got the clever pun. Liar, liar, pants on fire…ha, ha. Not.

"Screw you, Earl," she muttered resentfully, knowing any plans to lie today had just been shot. No way could she pretend nothing was happening as flames shot from her ass. Yeah, today was definitely not going to be a good day.

Damn angels and their fucked up sense of humor.

888888888888888

Faith's initial plan for getting Earl's stupid tasks done for the day as quickly as possible was to go to Xander in school like she had with Buffy the day before, pull him aside, and apologize as fast as humanly possible before splitting, avoiding people and therefore truth telling for the rest of the day. But of course, Faith's plans never worked out how she wanted, and the first person she ran into when she made her way into the high school and maneuvered through the halls was not Xander, but Willow.

"Hey, Faith," Willow greeted her somewhat less than excitedly as they nearly collided into each other, both instinctively pulling back to avoid doing so even as it meant getting in the path of others trying to get by.

"Hey," Faith muttered with even less enthusiasm, her eyes skipping past Willow in hopes of seeing Xander behind her as she shifted her weight from one foot to another.

Willow, noticing the lack of attention she was receiving, frowned. There was a more definite edge to her tone as she addressed her again.

"Two days in a row, huh, no, actually, three. You looking for Buffy? Because, because, you know, Faith, Buffy really does need to focus more on her studying and classes, unless it's an emergency, or, or, an apocalypse, or-"

"Chill out, Mama Rosenberg," Faith rolled her eyes. The girl was so tightly wound she was like a ticking time bomb, though one Faith wasn't at all threatened by. "Blondie's safe from bad influences and high school dropouts today, it's Xander I'm after. You seen him? I thought your gang was attached at the hip around here."

Willow's frown continued, and though she glanced down with some anxiety at the watch on her wrist, then all around her at the people passing her by in the hall, she nevertheless didn't immediately follow them so as not to be late for class. Faith was impressed- the redhead was actually putting herself in danger of being tardy to talk to HER? She must really be worried about Faith's seductive class-skipping schemes to risk skipping class herself.

"Xander should be headed for study hall- though with him, it's more like sleeping or snack hall. But, but Faith, Xander does even worse in school than Buffy, and I don't think-"

"Which way's study hall?" Faith interrupted impatiently, shifting her weight again.

The last thing she was in the mood for about now was Willow lecturing her on the importance of education- her, the freaking high school dropout. Willow might as well spell out to her that she thought Faith was a total loser who would ruin her friends' lives or futures or whatever- like the Hellmouth couldn't do that all on its own- because to Faith, at least, that was clearly what the girl was shouting between the lines every time she gave her that careful sideways look and spoke to her in that very controlled, civil, but disapproving tone. Sometimes when Willow looked at her like that, Faith felt uneasy, restless, like she needed to turn her head or hide from her gaze…and sometimes, she had to restrain herself from punching her out.

Now looked to be like one of the punching out times.

"Faith-" Willow started, daring to risk even more precious seconds that could cost her a tardy, and Faith raised her voice slightly as she repeated herself, eyebrows slanting in towards her nose as she took a step towards her.

"Willow. Where is the study hall."

"Turn down the hall that way, to the left," Willow said finally, pointing, but her eyes, still focused on Faith, changed, narrowing now with what looked like the beginnings of concern as well as suspicion and resentment. "Faith, is something wrong?"

Oh shit- direct question. Time to get out of here, because if she had to start answering direct questions, from Willow, of all people, and she couldn't smile breezily and lie through her teeth, Faith was in for it.

"Yes," Faith muttered begrudgingly under her breath and through clinched teeth, hoping that she had said it too indistinctly and softly for Willow to hear, and then turned away quickly, calling more loudly and clearly over her shoulder. "Thanks, Red. You better get to class, you're gonna be late, and we all know how you don't like-"

"Faith? What is it, what's going on?" Willow insisted, starting to follow her down the hall tentatively, the concern more evident in her voice and expression as she attempted to keep up with the other girl's quickening stride.

Faith's shoulders stiffened, her jaw tensing as well, and she tried to keep her face averted and her tone light as she struggled to think of a way to avoid the question without actually lying. Damn Earl and his stupid impossible tasks, didn't he know that Willow with a question on her mind that was unanswered was worse than a bloodhound or Sherlock Holmes? Of course he did. He was probably up there watching right now and chuckling away.

"I said I'm looking for Xander. I didn't say I wanted to talk to YOU," Faith replied tightly and deliberately in a rude tone, not really answering at all as she continued to stride forward without looking back at her. She hoped that Willow would just give up and go away. Normally, she would have predicted that would be what the other girl would do.

But she didn't. Instead, Willow almost ran to keep up with her, even going so far as to grab her arm- though when Faith jerked to a stop, whipping her head around fast, she quickly released her, backing up a few steps with some alarm in her eyes.

"Faith…I was just…are YOU okay? You…you just seem…"

She let the sentence trail off, perhaps afraid of Faith's reaction to whatever obviously negative adjective was on the tip of her tongue, perhaps not knowing what the adjective should be herself, perhaps simply realizing that she, Willow, was not supposed to be so persistent about her, Faith. Faith seized upon this uncertainty, giving the usual quick shrug and loose, insincere smile that was her usual response to being pressed…not at all thinking through the spoken response that was almost by this point a reflex to her.

"Five by five, Red. Just- oh SHIT!"

The last part blew her striving for casualness entirely, coming out in a hiss, as Faith felt the warning warmth begin to spread over the back of her pants. Hurriedly she corrected herself in a fierce, agitated tone, speaking to Earl rather than Willow, as Willow gawked at her, wide-eyed and bewildered, her forehead creasing.

"Okay, dammit, NO, NO, okay, I said NO, three times now, so leave my pants the hell alone, I only have like two pairs left! I'm going now, I don't have to say everything, that was enough fucking truth to save my pants, so I'm done here, already!"

Leaving Willow standing staring after her in the hallway, Faith took off in the direction she had pointed towards, her face crimson, heart punching against her chest. She didn't smell smoke, but it wouldn't surprise her at all if Earl was just waiting for the worse possible moment to bring on the flames.


	8. 8

Chapter 8

It wasn't difficult to find study hall; it basically consisted of a flock of kids and one bored, nearly asleep teacher sitting on the floor in the hallway with backpacks, books, and papers, most not actually in use, scattered about them. Xander was conveniently sitting at the end of the hallway on the side that Faith approached from, folding a piece of paper into an airplane that he then made zoom through the air in front of him, complete with soft sound effects. Faith took a second to smirk in spite of herself before leaning over him and taking hold of his arm, muttering to him abruptly.

"Hey, come here a second."

Startled, Xander twitched, then, eyes darting between Faith and the teacher and other students, none who seemed to be paying him much attention, he got to his feet somewhat awkwardly, casting one last glance back before following Faith down the hall. Still gripping his forearm, Faith made her way down the hall; spying a side exit that, rather stupidly of the school officials in her opinion, was not equipped with an alarm, she pushed it open and stepped outside, continuing to propel Xander around the side of the school. When she finally came to a stop, releasing his arm and stepping back from him, Xander regarded her with clear bemusement, his features creased as he addressed her.

"Not that I'm complaining about being taken out of school for any reason…but, uh, what's going on, Faith? Seemed like yesterday you were pretty keen to get rid of me, and today you're breaking me out like Ethan Hunt Mission Man? Well, woman, or whatever is the female equivalent of Ethan Hunt- which I guess now that I'm thinking about it would be you and Buffy," he rambled, starting off with an obvious edge in his tone that began to give away a more serious concern as he lowered his voice, eyebrows slanting. "Seriously, what happened? Is it…is it Buffy?"

"No," Faith replied, relieved to be able to give an answer that was both truthful and not difficult to tell the truth about. Crossing her arms, she rocked back on her heels, taking in a deep breath and mentally cursing Earl all over again, and then plunged into her ill-prepared speech. The sooner it was over with, the sooner she could get the hell away from Xander and any truths he might force out of her.

"Okay," she said abruptly, gesturing with her hands sharply for emphasis and narrowing her eyes as she practically recited her words to him. "Xander, I'm sorry about last night, the not having sex with you comment. I was being a bitch. I'm still not having sex with you but next time I'll try not to mention it unless you've totally got it coming, so that was rude and I'm sorry and it won't happen again unless like I said, you have it coming. Okay, done now, you can go back to class, later."

Relieved, cheeks flushing slightly, Faith turned hurriedly, intending to make a run for it, or at least a very quick stride. But Xander managed to snag her arm, stopping her. Of course, he almost caused himself to fall face first with the momentum of briefly being towed along with her, but he managed to stop himself and look at her profile with wide, astonished eyes.

"WHOA…and wait…and WHAT?" he sputtered, attempting to move to step in front of her to look her in the face, and Faith quickly turned her head away, pulling her arm none too gently from Xander's touch.

"Didn't you hear what I said there?" she asked with continued abruptness, not allowing him to meet her eyes, and Xander persisted in trying to do so, stepping towards her side for a better attempt.

"Yeah, I did, and that's why I'm saying WHAT?"

"You heard me," she snapped, her eyes meeting and holding his briefly, their irises dark, almost challenging, as though daring him to continue to speak to her, to not simply let her leave. "I didn't use any big words. I said I was sorry, okay, so why don't you just take it already?"

"Well I guess the complete lack of resentment and the convincing, heartfelt way you expressed your deep regret just left me speechless," Xander said with rising sarcasm of his own, giving a brief chuckle that was more startled and bitter than amused. "What, did a demon hold a gun to your head this morning and say you had to or something, because, you know, I didn't ask for an apology, Faith. Usually I accept insults to my manhood as a sad matter of course while quietly holding my resentment on the inside and hoping that one day Super Hero Central will give me a call."

"Not a demon, not a gun, and it was last night, not this morning," Faith muttered under her breath, turning away again, but Xander took her by the shoulder. As she tensed, he didn't try to turn her around, but instead just kept his hand lightly resting there, addressing her again.

"Look, I'm not trying to piss you off- believe me, the last thing I want to do is piss off a woman who has not only seen me totally naked, but could also kill me with her pinky finger. I'm just kind of lost here Faith. I mean, you apologize the way you have sex- zone in fast for the kill and then take off. Is that a Slayer thing, a Faith thing, or is there something I'm missing here? It's not…bad, necessarily…it's just sudden."

Somewhere in there had been questions…shit, Xander, don't ask questions…

"Well, you know me," Faith shrugged, putting as much distance in her tone and expression as possible, and attempting to edge away from him again without actually breaking out into a run and looking panicked from the way Xander was continuously trying to lock eyes with her. "I'm impulsive and all that."

Her heart was pounding, her throat dry, and damn if she could understand why. What the hell was wrong with her? It was Xander- like she couldn't outrun or outthink him at any time. And yet there he was with his furrowed brow and his dark eyes still trying to meet her own, trying to force her to look at him straight on. Why didn't he just let her go without forcing her to look like she was running?

"Faith," he said now, and his voice was quieter, the most serious she had heard it. "Is something going on? Are you okay?"

No one asked her that, on most days…on any days, really. Most of the time no one bothered to even consider that Faith was anything but okay, and she never showed them otherwise. If anyone did ask, it was casually enough that Faith could easily deflect or give them what they wanted to hear. And usually, Faith could tell herself just as easily that she really was okay, and she could even believe herself most of the time.

But today, more than any other day, the day that she could tell no lies, was of course the one day that everyone seemed sincerely to wonder about her welfare…and all this forced truth telling was forcing Faith to actually consider the truth, to face the lies she daily told herself as well as others. And the truth was that she wasn't okay…that whether it was because of Earl, or what she had done, erased or not, or whether it had been true long before, she wasn't okay.

Shit though…did she really have to say that to Xander? Did she really have to admit it to anyone at all, when she could damn well take care of herself?

For an angel, Earl was a sadistic bastard.

Xander was still watching her, frowning, waiting for a reply, and Faith quickly smiled, shrugging for him again.

"I'm surviving, just like everyone else."

"And in Sunnydale, that's usually enough to be a sweeping victory," Xander acknowledged with a smile, but his eyes remained on hers. "There should be more than that for us though. Don't you think?"

What Faith thought was that she had no idea Xander could be capable of such serious thought…and also, that her answer to his question was no. She didn't expect more to her life than survival. She wanted it, she did whatever it took to try to get more than what she had, in her own ways and methods…but all the while, the "more" she was forced to work towards always ended up only being what everyone else took for granted, the things she needed to just survive. No, Faith didn't expect to get "more." It was a constant and often losing battle just to get "enough."

She smirked, raising an eyebrow, and addressed Xander with practiced and mostly feigned amusement. "So serious, X-Man…what happened to Mr. Lame Puns and Booby Jokes?"

"Oh, he's here," Xander assured her, tapping his heart with a quick smile. "But sometimes Mr. Serious jolts awake and gives Mr. Brain a nudge, and when the thinking starts, it REALLY gets dangerous around here."

Faith rolled her eyes, but she smiled too. The guy was a dork, a CORNY dork, but he didn't seem to be holding a grudge, and so far, he hadn't seemed to take the apology as a sign that she really was deeply in love with him and he should get clingy. But then after a moment of silence between them that was partly awkward, partly a tentative friendliness, Xander's smile faded slightly, and he let his eyes move from Faith's and then back with some seeming nervousness, shifting his weight.

"So…you really did come just to apologize for what you said last night?"

"Uh…yeah," Faith replied, blinking, and then, seizing on this as an out, nodded quickly, starting to back away. "Yep, and I did now, and I'm done, so I'm gone. See ya."

She had taken maybe two steps when she heard Xander call out to her again, his voice uncertain, but impulsive and a little too loud in tone.

"Faith! What was it…I mean, that night? Before last night, I mean. Was it just for then…or…"

Faith's jaw tensed, and she took her time turning partly, her voice very controlled when she did, not walking towards him. Was there no such thing as escape from this guy?

"Pretty much the one night, Xan," she replied evenly, and Xander's brow furrowed, his voice coming out strained, more revealing of his emotions in response than he probably intended for her to hear.

"So…no chance of it happening again, it wasn't about us…being different, or, or liking each other, or…"

"I like you alright," Faith shrugged, exhaling, again mentally cursing Earl as her eyes roved past Xander and she shifted her weight impatiently, more than ready to escape the increasingly undesired conversation. "But that wasn't about liking you. That was about me being horny and you being there."

Her eyes skipped past him again and she turned her head to glance behind herself, a clear signal that she was ready to end this, but Xander, of course, couldn't let such a thing happen, not with Earl so obviously guiding its course. Meddling jerk. Xander's frown intensified, and as his eyes narrowed, his tone held an edge when he looked back at Faith.

"So you would have done it with anyone who happened to be there, then," he stated, and Faith shrugged again. Hadn't that been made clear by now? What the hell did he expect, a wedding proposal, a plaque commemorating the occasion? He should just be happy that he was the one who happened to be there.

"Yeah, basically," she repeated, and Xander shook his head, muttering something under his breath while dropping his eyes, letting his shoulders drop forward, and sticking his hands in his pockets. To Faith's ears, it sounded like he was muttering a resentful "Thanks a lot," and that was more than enough to cause her anger to soar unexpectedly, forgetting entirely her initial plan to make an escape as quickly as possible without burning holes into yet another pair of pants.

Rounding on him fast enough that Xander blinked, starting to take a step back, Faith advanced on him with a threatening posture, eyebrows moving sharply towards her nose as she very much invaded his personal space, jabbing a finger at his for emphasis as she raised her voice in indignant reply.

"Yeah, that's right, you SHOULD be thanking me! I didn't exactly force you to sleep with me, Xander, I didn't feed you lines about any spectacular love I felt for you or how we'd stroll off after happy together for the rest of our short Hellmouth lives! You wanted me since the first second you saw me, you were practically dropping drool down my cleavage, WITH your girlfriend at your side! I relieved you of the virginity you've been unable to get anyone ELSE to take away, and I didn't even make fun you given plenty of wide open opportunities! You want to stand there now and call me a slut, I don't give a shit, I don't care what you or anyone else thinks about me!" she almost yelled, and when she felt the seat of her pants warm threateningly at that last proclamation, she growled under her breath furiously, correcting herself with more irritation than embarrassment.

"FINE, maybe I care a little, are you fucking satisfied?" she called back to Earl, raising her eyes upward impatiently, and when her pants cooled again, she lowered her eyes to the thoroughly astonished and more than a little nervous Xander, her words grinding out almost through her teeth as she continued.

"You want to point to me as the slut here, well what the hell does that make you? I didn't hear you screaming no or pushing me away, I didn't hear you saying maybe you ought to hold my hand or take me out for a burger or whatever else they do in the movies first, and if I remember right, I didn't hear you asking to make sure I'm not a really well-developed thirteen-year-old either, did you?" she continued, her anger continuing to spike through her, with an intensity she wouldn't have thought such a simple comment from someone who should matter as little to her as Xander should…an anger boosted strongly by a hurt that she fiercely denied to herself existed.

"You don't give me that crap, like you're some innocent virgin who got screwed over by the skank, you wanted it!" she concluded, jabbing her finger toward him again, face flushed, breathing involuntarily quickening. "You were hoping it would happen all along, you didn't care how, so don't act all injured now just because you don't get it again! You'd do the same thing if you thought you could- and at least I KNOW your last name, do you know MINE?"

She backed off from him a few steps abruptly, sucking in a deep breath and turning her face partly away in an attempt to regain control, to calm down before she hit him, or worse. Her hands were shaking and she knotted them into fists, adrenaline still coursing through her as she began to process along with Xander her own reaction. What was wrong with her? She didn't care what he thought…she didn't.

Then why were her hands still shaking? Why was her heart still knocking so hard in her chest?

Xander, of course, was as stunned as Faith herself by her reaction, if not more so. His expression dumbfounded, he blinked rapidly, then looked at her with wide eyes, his mouth open partly before he began to stumble through his reply.

"Faith…I wasn't…I mean…I didn't say…I know your name!" he blurted, and Faith eyed him doubtfully, one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah? What is it then?"

She could almost physically see him wracking his brains, scrambling for the knowledge that he was sure he must possess, only to come up with nothing. Yep, that could only make sense, since Faith hadn't mentioned her full name to a single one of them since she'd come to Sunnydale…and since not a single one of them had asked.

"Okay, maybe I don't," Xander muttered finally, his eyes dropping somewhat guiltily away from hers, and he continued to struggle through trying to express himself, to latch onto something he could say in defense of himself. "But I never said- I mean, I wasn't thinking what…I mean, you were…you're not really thirteen, are you?" he asked with sudden trepidation, and he looked up at Faith quickly, the dread in his eyes strong enough that it was almost comical. Clearly, that was at the moment his biggest concern about her outburst.

"No," she muttered, crossing her arms and backing off a little further, shaking her head. "That's not the point."

"How old are you?" he persisted, the wariness remaining in his tone and expression, and Faith shook her head again, exhaling irritably.

"Old enough so you don't have to worry about being a closet pedophile, just forget about it, okay?"

She turned away again, intending to leave, but again he surprised her with his quick reaching of her shoulder, though he let go almost the instant she turned her head.

"Look, I, I'm sorry," Xander said quickly, with no small awkwardness, but also with a growing sincerity as he met her eyes with his, taking a slow breath. "You're right…it was just, you know, you were ready to go, and so was I, and you didn't seem like you wanted a bunch of questions, you know, I was just…"

"Maybe I didn't, but if you didn't ask them, then who are you to turn it around like I'm the walking slut bomb and you're Mr. Pure?" she leveled back at him, still hearing her own anger reflecting in the edge in her voice, and even as she asked herself silently again what was wrong with her.

What did it matter what he said, or anyone else, for that matter? Why did she CARE, why didn't she just do whatever the hell she wanted and not care, like always? What made her suddenly care now?

Was it Earl- was he doing this? Or had she cared all along, and now he was just forcing her to acknowledge it?

"Okay…point taken," Xander acknowledged, and he made a gesture as though he were stabbing himself, his lips twitching. "Point very sharp and very taken. You're right, I should have asked…maybe not while you were stripping off my pants, because it's kind of hard to even form words, let alone thoughtful sentences, with THAT going on…but some point before the, the doing. Probably before that day…it's just…I didn't, I didn't really think about it, you know? It seemed like you didn't want us to know much about you, so, so…I guess I didn't really think about it. Or ask."

As this sank in to Faith, she stared at Xander without really seeing him, conflicting emotions swirling inside her. Anger and resentment, bitterness, but also disappointment, sadness…all feelings she thought she had trained herself not to feel at all, not with him, not with anyone, at least, not with Buffy's friends. Why did it MATTER to her…why the hell was this bothering her so much, when she could always shrug it off as nothing before, as something to expect?

Even as she thought this she found herself voicing the answer as it came to her, speaking out loud what she couldn't explain to herself inside her own thoughts.

"Maybe I DIDN'T want you to know," she told Xander quietly, still holding his gaze with hers. "But it would have been nice if all of YOU had wanted to know."

She turned away again, starting to walk away, her heart beginning to race inside her chest. But Xander called to her for the last time when she was several feet away. His words were soft, but they still gave her pause.

"Faith…what is your last name?"

Her reply occurred almost a full minute later, just as softly, almost unsure, though she herself did not know why.

"Lehane."

Then she was walking away again, for good this time, and Xander remained behind, letting her go in silence. Her pace sped up until she was almost running, and the question continued to run through Faith's mind…why DID she care what any of them thought? And what did that mean?


	9. 9

Chapter 9

As Faith left the high school premises, she slowed to a fast walk, and then to a more measured, even pace as she tried to turn her mind to other thoughts, ones that were not so uncomfortably fixated on unwanted self-analysis. The only way she could stop caring what Xander or any of the others thought about her was to stop THINKING about what they thought about her, to stop thinking about thinking about what they thought about her too. Which was easier said than done…and enough to give her mind a silent tongue twister that was too confusing to follow.

It was past twelve, the streets of Sunnydale busier than usual during the lunch hour period, and Faith stuck to the sidewalk, watching the cars pass her by and resisting the urge to stick out her thumb, to hitch a ride to somewhere, anywhere but where she was now. She'd done it enough by now to realize that no matter how far you went or how different the scenery, nothing ever really changed, not when you came down to it. She hoped with every new town, every new move that she would somehow be new too, that she would someday change with her relocations as much as the names of street signs and locations of traffic lights.

But it was the same with Faith as everyone else. She could make herself look different on the outside…but hell, she was such a lost cause on the inside that even an angel literally on her ass couldn't make her really change.

Okay, enough analysis for one day, hell, one lifetime already. What the hell was wrong with her?

Faith didn't smoke on a regular basis; it was something she did when she felt like it, something to do with her hands, to pass the time. But she wanted a cigarette then as she made her way down the streets, enough that as she passed a strip containing a supermarket, Chinese restaurant, Laundromat, and a Starbucks, she paused, considering heading into the supermarket to steal a pack. But stealing from those places was harder than you'd think, as far as cigarettes went. They kept them in a locked case, they wanted ID, and she could only go in and cause a distraction so many times before people started to remember her.

Besides, maybe Earl hadn't told her she couldn't steal today, but what with her current flame situation, maybe having an item on her that was also flammable today wasn't the best idea. Faith didn't relish the thought of burnt lips.

Surveying the options before her, hands in her pockets, Faith began to cross the parking lot, intending to head towards the supermarket to make off with some kind of food, specifically a noncombustible type. But as she attempted to cut through one of the lanes, a shiny, brand new, and clearly expensive red convertible backing up suddenly from its crookedly parked space in front of the Starbucks came about a millimeter's space away from mowing her down. Only Slayer-fast instincts enabled Faith to leap to the side without earning tire treads stamped into her torso and over her face.

Faith didn't need to see the "Queen C" vanity plate to know the identity of the person who had almost sent her straight on to Earl in heaven, which to her, was probably closer to her idea of hell. Adrenaline flowing through her veins, quickening her heartbeat and flushing her face, Faith clinched her fists at her sides, almost grateful for the interruption. Cordelia Chase and impending death she could handle, as long as she didn't have to philosophize along the way. Nice try, Earl, gonna have to work harder than that to get me into your side of the afterlife.

As Cordelia clumsily put her car in park, blocking the entire lane for anyone who might want to back out of their spot or drive through, she exited its interior with a huffy slam of the car door, stalking towards Faith on four inch stilettos that made her already tall form hover several inches over the other girl. For most, Cordelia's height would be impressive; for Faith, who doubted the girl could stake a vampire without complaining about a broken nail, it was almost comical. As the other girl started towards her, indignation all over her face and displayed in her posture, Faith almost smirked, lifting her chin in more than equal aggressive stance, her hands moving to her hips as she too strode forward to meet her head on. The sunglasses-clad, sundress-sporting brunette and her spazzy driving moves was exactly the distraction she wanted.

"Damn, Cordy, what the hell was that, you forget your bifocals today, or just your brain? Oh yeah, that's on snooze every day, so maybe you were just trying not to smear your nail polish," she remarked archly, lifting an eyebrow, and Cordelia rose to the challenge as she had hoped. Her own carefully tweezed eyebrows slanting towards her nose, she replied in typical acerbic Cordelia fashion.

"MY brain? THAT is hurtful, coming from the girl who has a stunning repertoire of matching skills. Black with black, and oh, more black!" she replied, her eyes scanning scathingly down Faith's dark jeans and tank. "Not to mention the way you think of it as a 'fun challenge' to try to take on two thousand pounds of metal, face on. Hello, excuse you? Are you TRYING to suspend my license here? This is a brand new car, it even SMELLS new, and if your disgusting blood and brain particles, what there is of that, anyway, got all over it, then I would NEVER be able to get it all out, not to mention, who would ever want to ride in it again? It figures it's you throwing yourself in my path. If you want to go play in traffic, why don't you involve someone else's crappy vehicle instead of mine?"

The girl was unbelievable. No one else would ever have the balls- or the lack of brains- to talk to a Slayer like that, let alone FAITH the Slayer. It was somehow the continued incredulity over the girl's nerve that made Faith want to snicker sometimes instead of maim her, like she would anyone else who did the same.

"Check it out, Queen C taking a walk on the wild side with all the rest of us badasses," Faith smirked, opening her hands in an encompassing gesture as she tossed her hair back from her face, cocking her hip in a cocky posture. "Date Xander Harris for a few months and next thing you know, old Cordy's skipping out on class and taking out helpless pedestrians in a streak of wicked road rage in the Starbucks parking lot. Next thing you know you're gonna be bumming cigars and sporting a nose ring and a skull tattoo."

"Some of us, Faith, are above the skank rung of the evolutionary ladder, and don't think we have to look like a total freak to get people to look at us at all," Cordelia shot back, crossing her arms as she stared Faith down. "Some of us also don't have to skip class to hang out alone in a parking lot, because those of us who are seniors in high school can leave the campus for lunch. You know, those of us who didn't drop out to pursue the worthy career choice of full time Slayer/slut?"

At those words, something hot and heavy pressed against Faith's chest, her mouth grew dry, and her hands quickly and instinctively formed fists at her sides as conflicting impulses arose inside her. She wanted to snap back with a retort vicious enough to draw emotional blood, to hit Cordelia Chase hard enough to knock her into a coma, to snap out in a flurry of frustration not just at Cordelia, not just at being called a slut for the second time today, but for the events of the past two or three days and the way they were all building up on each other faster and faster now, making it more and more difficult to make her way through them and still keep them at a distance from herself personally. She wanted to do all of those things not because she was angry, so much, or because Cordelia was a loud-mouthed bitch, but because what she was saying actually hurt.

Why the hell did she CARE if people thought she was a loser, a slut- especially someone like Cordelia, of all people? Faith had said so herself on multiple occasions what she was- why did it matter if anyone else did? What was going on with her that it did matter now, or that it ever would?

She wouldn't let Cordy see that she had struck a nerve, she wouldn't let her think that anything she thought or said mattered, because it didn't. It DIDN'T.

Rolling her eyes, Faith let a loose smile tip the corners of her mouth, let condescension, boredom, and cocky ease predominantly display itself in her posture and expression.

"Oh, so you get a whole thirty minutes of freedom every day before heading back to a hell scarier than anything the Hellmouth could throw my way, aka the Sunnydale educational system. For thirty whole minutes you can go wherever you want and do whatever your heart desires, as long as you're back in class by one. You're right, Queen C, I ache with jealousy. I mean, those of us who are full time Slayer skanks don't get that thirty minutes of lunch time freedom, we've gotta cope with being free 24/7. Damn, I guess you've got the better deal."

Just then, for the fourth time that day, Faith felt her pants warm; she exhaled impatiently, rolling her eyes up as she muttered a self-correction to Earl.

"Fine, she doesn't have the better deal, that's not LYING, that was sarcasm. You're not allowing much margin for error, are you?"

But the warmth in her pants wasn't going away; in fact, it was rapidly growing into heat, and Faith, affronted, raised her voice, though she knew Cordelia would hear her.

"Hey, get with it already, I SAID it was sarcastic, I SAID she doesn't actually get the better deal! Clean out your ears up there!"

"I heard you the first time and without the helpful labeling of sarcasm," Cordelia snapped, hands on her hips, rolling her eyes before crossing her arms impatiently. "If you're going to waste my time with unneeded lessons in figures of speech-"

But Faith was paying no attention- instead, she was starting to panic inwardly, because the heat was not fading in her backside, even though she had twice recanted her sarcastic comment. She hissed a furious repetition, this too doing nothing, and before she could make a retreat or figure out how to halt it, the back of her pants burst into flames.

"OH HOLY SHIT, YOU ARE FUCKIN' KIDDING ME!" she screamed, in as much fury over having to toss out yet another pair of pants as from fear or humiliation that Cordelia Chase, of all people, was standing there watching. She looked around the parking lot frantically, though there was clearly no water present and she knew by now water wouldn't put it out. "I wasn't lying, what the hell are you calling a lie! Put it out already, you asshole- shit!"

Cordelia, meanwhile, was gawking, eyes bulging with shock and horror as she kept them fixated on Faith's steadily blazing pants as Faith spun around, yelling, desperately seeking a way to put them out. Her eyes shifting to her car, still parked a few feet away, Cordelia yelped aloud with high pitched alarm.

"Oh my god, you're on fire- don't go near my car with it!"

Had Faith been a little less preoccupied with the flames consuming her pants, she would have immediately and gladly caused Cordelia quite severe injury for that order. But as it was, she was too busy trying to rid herself of a combustible backside to be able to properly repay the other girl for her self-centeredness.

And then, Cordelia tried to help.

"Stop, drop, and roll!" Cordelia yelled, gesturing wildly with a perfectly manicured hand. "is there a demon, did a demon do it, KILL him, that's your job, this is what happens when you slack around making snarky comments! Wait- stay there, I've got it!"

As Faith continued to holler accusations at Earl, who refused to answer her in either words or actions but was no doubt finding her predicament to be entertainment of the year, Cordelia hurried back to her car, retrieving a Styrofoam cup and rushing towards Faith with it. Stopping five feet away, she flung its contents onto her in an apparent attempt to put out the flames.

The problem with that was that Cordelia didn't actually manage to hit the flames with the liquid, but instead merely soaked Faith's chest. And she also seemed to have not considered that the beverage she had just doused her with was steaming hot coffee.

Faith yelped with pain as well as heightened ire as the coffee soaked through her shirt and burned the skin beneath; although Earl's apparently magical flames didn't burn her skin, the coffee did, and she lashed out with instinctive rage, her arm making a wild swing in Cordy's direction. Cordelia scrambled backward, calling out apologies that were just as much indignant as nervous.

"SORRY, I was TRYING to help, how am I supposed to put it out if you didn't stay still like you were supposed to?"

"Fuck you with an extra-sharp stake, Earl!" Faith screamed in response, and Cordelia paused, blinking in bemusement.

"Is the smoke going to your head, because one, I'm not a man, and two, if I was, my name wouldn't be EARL. And three, you sharing your disgusting sexual fantasies with me really isn't going to help with me wanting to help your ass NOT be on fire-"

"Fine, it's not thirty minutes they get for lunch, I was just estimating!" Faith interrupted as she continued to bellow to Earl, her mind frantically clicking through the list of what she had said to Cordelia in an effort to figure out which of them was the lie. When her pants blazed on, she continued, her voice rapid, belligerent, and more than a little desperate.

"No? School's not scarier than the Hellmouth monsters? No? Cordelia can't do whatever she wants in lunch hour? NO! Well she can't fly to fucking Tahiti, so that's a fucking lie, YOU are the liar now! So what the hell is it, WHAT? Is it that I'M not free, is that it, because what the hell else did I say?"

As soon as she screamed out her last question, the flames quite abruptly disappeared, leaving behind a thick cloud of smoke and no backside to Faith's pants. As she smoke drifted through them and then began to waft away, the girls coughed heavily, Cordelia waving a hand over her face and scowling. Faith staggered, her mind whirring, as the implications of what had just happened slowly sank in.

She wasn't free? It was a lie that she was free?

"What the…I'm not FREE?" she rasped, incredulous, coughing again and rubbing her throat as her heart pounded furiously in her chest. "I'm not FREE?"

"Normally, I would remark that if you're not free, you're at least dirt cheap," Cordelia snapped, eyes flashing as she made a rapid recovery, turning to face Faith. "But you know what isn't cheap? My clothes, and my car! And your…your ass-flame thing just smoked them up, that smell is NEVER going to go away! What the hell was that, what is WRONG with you?"

By now a small crowd had gathered, staring from beside or within their cars or outside the buildings nearby. Aware of this, as well as the much too loud volume of Cordelia's voice, Faith gritted her teeth, shaking her head. She couldn't deal with this, not now, there was no way in hell she was explaining Earl and his asshole teaching methods to Cordelia Chase. And what the hell was with all those jackasses just watching the girl on fire and not trying to help? Or aws it her currently mostly bare ass they were staring at?

Faith almost growled, turning away abruptly and beginning to walk off. "Go back to school, Cordelia."

"What the hell, Faith, your whole ass is hanging out!" Cordelia yelled, and with an impatient huff, she returned to her car. A few moments later something soft hit Faith's back with better aim then her earlier toss of her coffee. When Faith stopped jerkily and snatched it up, she discovered it was a man's t-shirt.

"It was Xander's, it was in the trunk of my car. I kept meaning to burn it, but if it's going to burn it might as well be covering your ass first," Cordelia muttered.

As Faith shrugged herself into the shirt as fast as possible, finding that it hung on her to cover her to mid-thigh, Cordelia continued to speak assertively.

"You have to go to Giles with that ass flaming thing, because that is a health hazard not just to you and your ass, but to everyone else too, do you know how bad secondhand smoke is? I would drive you except I just had the upholstery of my car redone, and you still smell-"

"NO!" Faith said hurriedly, vehemently shaking her head as she backed away. "I'm not telling Giles, I'm not hurt, okay, there's no fucking way you need to tell Giles!"

"Faith, your ass was on fire!" Cordelia pointed out, her eyebrows shooting up. "So unless you stuck a lit cigarette in your pocket-"

"Yeah that's what I did, I'm dumb like that, so leave me alone, alright?" Faith said hurriedly, but when the heat began in what shreds of her pants remained, she almost screamed. "I was just fucking kidding, fuck! There are no cigarettes, okay, shit!"

"Then I'm getting Giles," Cordelia leveled, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows again before turning back to her car.

Faith, heart galloping out of control at this threat, ran to block her, grabbing the girl's arm and squeezing it just hard enough that Cordelia stilled, meeting her eyes.

"You do that, and I'll hold you down and cut off all your hair…and drug you with a weight gain fluid in your sleep," she said in a soft but deadly serious tone, and Cordelia swallowed, fear flashing into her eyes. The girl wasn't too oblivious to know an utterly sincere threat when she heard it, and she yanked her arm away, sliding into her car with a dark glare.

"Fine, don't come to me for help when your ass sets your house on fire in your sleep. Oh yeah, can't happen, because YOU don't have a house. Or a car. Or a life."

She turned the ignition of her car, not glancing back as she drove away, and Faith stood there for a few moments, her limbs suddenly heavy, weak.

Not free…how could Earl say that she wasn't free…what did that mean, that she wasn't free?


	10. 10

Of course, Faith couldn't continue to stay out in public with her bare backside hanging out of her scorched jeans for all to see, even if they couldn't actually see it beneath Xander's shirt. She headed towards her motel as quickly as possible, not only to change pants yet again, but to hide out. She had had more than enough truth telling for one day.

As she slammed the door behind her, then locked it, for what little good the flimsy latch would do against whoever really wanted to get in there after her, Faith stripped off her newest pair of Earl-destroyed pants, wanting to seethe about them as they unceremoniously joined the other pair on the floor. She didn't bother putting on a new pair; she had no intention of heading out again that day. But she was too preoccupied to be really very angry, her mind stuck on what had happened back with Cordelia- not the pants flaming, but what Earl had pronounced to be a lie.

Earl had said she was lying when she said she was free. But she was…wasn't she? She WAS. What else could she be but free, freer than anyone else she knew? Faith could do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted to. No one tried to tell her what to do or when to do it except Wesley, who wasn't' even worth mentioning, and she could easily blow off anyone who did. She wasn't accountable to anyone, responsible for anyone, and no one had expectations for her. She just was. She could leave and come back whenever she wanted, and everyone shrugged it off as her right. What other definition of free was there?

She was free. She had to be. She was FREE!

The more Faith thought about it, the more insistently she needed to tell herself, and the more restless she grew until she found herself standing abruptly, turning her face upward as she called out to the ceiling.

"Earl…Earl! Earl, come here a minute!"

She waited, anticipating the flash of light, the spreading of his wings, or a simple and sudden appearance. But there was nothing. Earl did not make himself known, and Faith heard no answering reply.

Growling under her breath, she tried again, her voice louder still and much more insistent.

"Earl! Get down here!"

She waited, crossing her arms, a scowl closing her features, but no reply came. Either Earl was taking a nap, too amused by her irritation to make himself known, or didn't like being called like a dog or toddler. Glaring around the room in general, kicking the bedframe and swearing under her breath when it promptly cracked in half, Faith flopped onto her back on her bed, still clad in Xander's shirt, and glowered up at the ceiling.

She was free. She had to be.

She hated angels.

88888888888888888

Faith had intended to watch TV, look at a stolen magazine, anything and everything it would take to use up the rest of the day where she wouldn't have to go out and face the possibility of any further pants-burning incidents. But she must have fallen asleep at some point, because when she heard a knock on her door, it made her jolt up, disoriented, in bed, and when she glanced at the digital clock on her nightstand, she saw that a couple of hours had passed.

She didn't call out a response, hoping that the knocker would give up, thinking she wasn't there. But then she recognized Buffy's voice addressing her as she paused her knocking.

"Faith, I know you're in there, I can feel you on the other side. Let me in or I'll let myself in for you."

Damn, what the hell was with people today, why couldn't anyone leave her alone? If Cordelia had been running her mouth…

"Hold ON, dammit!" Faith yelled back, standing up hurriedly and letting her eyes scan the room. Seeing the burnt pants on the floor, Faith quickly kicked them under her bed. Then, not bothering to put on a new pair, she answered the door clad only in Xander's shirt, blocking the doorway with her body, crossing her arms, and raising her eyebrow as she leaned against its frame.

"Yeah? Little early for patrol, isn't it?"

"Uh, yeah," Buffy replied, but her eyes were shifting involuntarily to Faith's bare legs and oversized shirt before skipping quickly back to her face. She shifted awkwardly, and her eyes blinked before she asked in a strained tone, "Uh, is someone…in there with you?"

"Not anymore," Faith replied, not mentioning that the last time someone had been had been the night before, and not in fact, as Buffy surely thought, five minutes before her arrival. It was more fun that way. She watched Buffy shift uneasily again as her eyes resumed their scan of Faith's form with amusement, almost smirking when Buffy's eyes suddenly widened.

"Is that XANDER'S shirt?"

Faith glanced down at herself casually, as if she were just noticing her mostly unclad state, and what exactly she happened to be clad with. She shrugged, stretching her arms forward in front of her in a deliberate yawn, unable to suppress a smirk when she noticed Buffy's eyes involuntarily dropping to gawk the hem of Xander's shirt rising with her movements up her thigh before again rapidly returning her eyes to Faith's face, flushing.

"Yep. Look, B, I was…sleeping," she told her, deliberately putting an insinuative undertone to the word in an attempt to imply she had been doing more than that, though in all actuality the word was the bare truth, pun intended. If Earl wouldn't let her lie, the least she could do was pretend to lie. "Still kinda…recovering…so why don't you talk to me later, huh?"

"No," Buffy shook her head, her blush deepening, eyes momentarily skipping away. But then she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, her voice gaining directness and confidence. "No, Faith, not later. We need to talk right now."

Shit. Time for plan B. Except she didn't have a plan B ready.

"I said later," Faith said edgily, and she backed up, starting to close the door- only to be stopped by Buffy's hand seizing hers, squeezing with slow but building pressure.

"And I said now. Sooo you can let me in, or I can break the door down, but either way I'm coming in. Why not go with the way where you don't have to spend two weeks' rent replacing a door?"

Faith had already broken the damn thing once, and she wasn't willing to or currently able to replace it again. The thought of what the motel owner's suggested payment plan would undoubtedly be was something she had no desire for unless things got way desperate, way fast, and so she gritted her teeth, reluctantly conceding at least temporary defeat. Could this day suck any more?

"Whatever," she muttered with a shrug, backing up reluctantly to let Buffy follow her inside.

The blonde's eyes darted around her room, taking in the disarray of clothes and fast food bags strewn against one wall and her overflowing trash can. She coughed slightly, her eyes briefly fixing on Faith's bare legs again as Faith sat on her bed, folding her legs under her and raising an eyebrow. She wasn't about to put on pants, and risk Earl flames when she now had only two pairs left to her name.

"Uh, you smoke in here a lot, huh?" Buffy asked, trying not to make a face at the faint lingering smell from the scorched pants under Faith's bed, and Faith shrugged, noncommittal.

"Some. So what's up, B, Apocalypse 700?"

"No…not yet…uh, are you gonna put some pants on?" Buffy blurted with another discomfited glance at Faith's legs as she remained standing at the foot of her bed.

"Nope," Faith answered shortly, shrugging. Not if she wanted to save her pants, she wasn't. "I'm comfortable, thanks. You feel left out, you can take yours off too," she added with a mischievous smile, eyes glinting, and Buffy hurriedly shook her head, holding up her hands.

"No, no, I'm good. I'll just-"

She cleared her throat, flushing once again, and then sat on the edge of Faith's bed, inhaling audibly before turning to face her. And when she did, her voice was calm and serious, very direct, her face composed- in the Buffy Wants Answers mode Faith knew and recognized all too well.

She was definitely screwed.

"Faith," Buffy began evenly, looking straight into her eyes, so that Faith wanted to squirm, to turn her head away so Buffy couldn't see there anything Faith didn't want her to. "I talked to Willow at lunch."

"And?" Faith asked in as unconcerned of a tone she could manage, trying to arrange her expression into one of boredom and impatience rather than tension and dread, trying to somehow quiet the suddenly very loud beating of her heart.

What the hell had she said to Willow anyway? Had Cordelia said something, or Xander? She hadn't been kidding, if Cordy had been blabbing all over the place, her hair was history.

"And she's…well, she's worried about you, Faith," Buffy said quietly, holding her gaze, and Faith tried more desperately to remember exactly what the hell it was she had said to the girl. After her much more dramatic encounters with Xander and Cordelia, she had practically forgotten she had even seen Willow, let alone what she might have accidentally let slip.

"Red worries that we'll all die due to ozone blow ups, B," Faith said dismissively, rolling her eyes. "Of course she worries about me. I'm a big bad high school dropout who smokes, drinks, dances wild, and knows how to have fun. She's afraid I'm gonna CORRUPT you or something, or make you get a wild and crazy urge to dress all in leather…which would be pretty hot, actually," she said with a lifted eyebrow, looking Buffy up and down in a deliberate attempt to distract her. But though Buffy reddened again, she recovered quickly.

"It's not just Willow who's concerned, Faith. I am too. She…she said you were looking for Xander, that you needed to talk to him…and that you seemed upset."

Faith's eyes widened, and she sat up fast, her voice rising. "I wasn't-"

"I tried to talk to Xander- we both did," Buffy interrupted, talking over her determinedly, still looking her straight on in the face. "He wouldn't say anything, just got all nervous and jokey like he always does. And now…I mean…how you are now, what, what you're wearing, and what you were…I mean…" she faltered, taking a slow breath, and then met Faith's eyes again, speaking in a rush. Faith swore there was panic barely contained in their surfaces. "Faith…are you and Xander in love? And…and, or…are you pregnant?"

For several moments Faith just stared, refusing to believe her own ears. But when Buffy continued to watch her anxiously, thinning her lips, and Faith began to realize she was serious, the hilarity of the situation hit her, and she burst into loud laughter, falling backwards onto her bed and letting it rattle through her body in near hysterical mirth. She could feel Buffy staring at her, totally nonplussed, a little miffed, and that only upped her amusement. It was almost two minutes before Faith sat up, still snickering, her face hot and as flushed in appearance as Buffy's as she shook her head, grinning in the blonde's direction.

"Hell, Buffy, no, NO, where the hell would you guys come up with something like that?"

"Well, well, there were signs! The shirt, and, and the lack of pants, do you realize you don't' have pants on?" she sputtered, gesturing hurriedly towards Faith's legs. Faith snickered, dimples flickering into view in her cheeks as Buffy went on. "And you were asking last week about if I ever slept with him- and, and Willow said you were acting weird, or upset-"

"B, just because you sleep with a guy one time doesn't mean you're secretly in love and knocked up with his kid," Faith rolled her eyes, still smirking, and Buffy recoiled slightly, eyes widening all over again.

"You, you mean- you did? With, with Xander…you guys…"

"Had sex, yeah," Faith shrugged casually, enjoying the display of disgust, shock, and squeamish realization flickering over Buffy's face as the other girl attempted to keep her face neutral and failed spectacularly, giving Faith an uncomfortable and insincere smile as she blinked several times.

"Oh…like…today? Is that why the…"

She nodded towards Faith's apparel again, then put up her hands quickly, reddening turning her eyes away.

"Actually I don't want to know. Actually, I would love to know much less than I currently do know. Much, much less."

"Well what else would you come around here for, if not to sniff out the gory details?" Faith needled, her tone overly innocent, even as her face glowed with devilish intent. Just to up Buffy's discomfort level, she lay down on her stomach close beside her on the bed, almost touching her, so that Xander's shirt rode up high on her legs as she propped her chin in her hand, wiggling her eyebrows. "Because if you're that curious, I'm not too selfish not to share, you know. You want to hear about me and X-Man having sex, right here on this bed? He wasn't too bad for a virgin, the endurance, though, that could use a little work…"

"This bed?" Buffy yelped, eyes bulging, and she almost leapt to her feet, rushing to stand instead against the wall as she eyed her vacated spot as if it had suddenly grown a large fungus that would eat away at her flesh upon contact. As Faith snickered, thoroughly enjoying herself and relaxing with the focus off of her and whatever Willow had said about her, Buffy shook her head, muttering to herself briefly before raising her voice.

"Okay, you can stop trying to gross me out now. In fact, I'm pretty much begging you not to, before I either throw up inside my mouth or get forced to kick your ass, which would probably hurt more than usual without any protective pants covering," Buffy said, before taking a long breath, meeting Faith's eyes and speaking more seriously in her tone. Faith didn't fail to notice, however, that she didn't return to sit on the bed.

"Faith…I know you're trying to distract me, here, and I really did come to talk to you, so stop a while, okay? Will you please just talk to me?"

At that Faith felt her muscles tense, and her eyes narrowed as she deliberately attempted to neutralize her expression, to steel herself for whatever it was Buffy had to say. The truth was that she wanted to run, that there was no way she wanted to sit through a Buffy Summers evaluation of her issues, whatever the blonde seemed to think they might be. What had Willow SAID anyway? Or was Buffy making a big thing out of nothing?

She couldn't know, could she? About Earl, about what the man in the alley…there was no way Buffy could have known. Could she? What if she had been having Slayer dreams…what if Earl was talking to her too?

Faith could feel her heartbeat quickening, the anxiety building in her chest, and she forced herself to smile at the other girl casually, to shrug and speak with nonchalance.

"Whatever, B. Why, what's up?"


	11. 11

Chapter 11

"Well, like Willow said," Buffy started carefully, watching Faith in a too-scrutinizing way that set her skin on edge and made her want to jump from Buffy's range of view. "She thought you seemed upset, or worried…and she just, she thought maybe something was going on."

She looked at Faith expectantly, as if hoping for some sort of reply to the affirmative, but Faith looked back at her as flatly as possible, giving her nothing. Buffy hesitated, one corner of her mouth tucking in, before going on, her voice dropping somewhat.

"She said you wanted to see Xander, and you seemed upset and in a hurry…and something about you only having three pairs of pants?"

The last part was said the most quickly, and Buffy frowned, her forehead creasing as she glanced down at Faith's legs quickly.

"Do you really only have two pairs of pants?"

Shit. And the questions were beginning. This day was never gonna end, was it?

"Two now," Faith muttered as softly as she was capable of, but unlike the others, Buffy possessed a Slayer hearing as keen as her own, and Faith's reply did not escape her.

"Really?" Buffy asked with wide-eyed surprise, as if she couldn't conceive of such a thing- which she undoubtedly couldn't, since Faith had never seen her wear the same thing twice the entire time she'd known her. "You only have two pairs of pants?"

It's called "poverty," B. It's called "jeans are hard to steal much, they have tags and strips inside." It's called "the Slayer lifestyle and now Earl too gives a short life span to what pants you have…" it's called "have you ever opened your eyes and brain enough to look at where I'm living and think that maybe it's not that I think this damn motel is such a great place to live, but that maybe it's all I can afford, and maybe I can't even afford it?"

Damn Slayer hearing. Damn Earl more.

"No big thing, B, I'll get more," Faith shrugged, carefully watching her own words to guard herself against any accidental lies. There had been way more than enough of that today- and Buffy was the absolute last person who needed to see her ass-flaming magic trick. "My other pairs…kinda got messed up, is all. You know how it is."

"Well, can't you wash them or something?" Buffy asked with a continued frown, and Faith suppressed a laugh, smirking at the thought of wearing laundered, but butt-less, jeans.

"They're kind of beyond that, B…and it's not like I carry around stacks of quarters."

"Well, you could exchange dollars at a bank or something, couldn't you?" Buffy persisted, and Faith shook her head, incredulous.

How naïve was she- did she seriously not realize that some people, such as a runaway orphan who never had anything to begin with, didn't have cash at all, let alone a bank that would swap it out?

Before she could censor herself, she found herself muttering as much under her breath, rolling her eyes. "Would have to actually have cash to be able to do that…"

Obviously overhearing again, Buffy's frown continued as she looked at her closely, and Faith deliberately shifted herself so she didn't have to look at her straight on. What she was wanting about now was to stand up, put some pants on, and get the hell away from the Buffy Round of Questions that of course had never before existed until this day- but what was she supposed to do, leave Buffy in her room to snoop around alone? What if she found Faith's pants- how the hell would she explain that? An especially kinky sex game?

"Well…you could wash stuff at our house, I'm sure Mom wouldn't mind," Buffy said slowly, and Faith, seeing that she had more on her mind and was clearly trying to figure out how to say it, nodded, giving a quick smile.

"Yeah, cool, thanks, B. Take you up on it some day, alright?" Not a chance in hell. But she didn't have to know that. "Now, look, I need to shower, so why don't you go give that guy of yours a neck sucking not involving blood and soul loss or something, alright?"

She raised an eyebrow, swinging her legs off the side of her bed and getting to her feet, and moved to retrieve her clothes from her dresser. All this time she pointed turned her back to Buffy, in what should have been a clear indication that it was time for her to make her exit. But the other girl stood there, arms crossed, and though Faith was doing all she could not to look at her as she made a show out of getting one of her last two pairs of jeans, she could feel Buffy's frown, almost hear the concern aimed towards her back.

"Faith," Buffy said finally, her voice soft, careful, enough that Faith's spine automatically stiffened defensively, her jaw setting. "Faith, do you not have enough clothes?"

There was no answer to that which wouldn't involve fire and/or total humiliation on Faith's part of some kind, so she didn't respond, taking the jeans in her hand and heading towards the bathroom with them. But Buffy had clearly seen her mostly empty drawer, and Faith felt her following behind her as she continued talking.

"I mean, you seem to have a lot of shirts, right? And you have leather pants- those cheetah ones- those black ones, and those snake looking ones- but I haven't seen you wear them in a while."

All had been rendered unwearable in the line of slaying…and shirts were easier to steal than pants. But Faith wasn't about to say that, so she just shrugged again, turning her head quickly with her hand on the doorknob of the bathroom.

"Said I was gonna shower, B. So unless you want to join me…"

Normally that kind of comment would be enough to make Buffy blush, stammer, and squeal about Faith's perviness, thus totally distracting her from whatever Faith wanted her to be distracted from. But Buffy the fashionista was not to be distracted from this clothes thing, and to Faith's amazement, she didn't even seem to clue in to its meaning.

"In fact, it seems like all you've worn is jeans when I've seen you lately- and shorts, once or twice, but you know, all jeans and shorts pretty much look the same, and I just figured- Faith, do you really only have two pairs of jeans?" Buffy blurted, seemingly so blown away by this information that she couldn't let it go. Though Faith stared at the bathroom door, her hand tightening around its knob without twisting it open, she could see the blonde's stunned expression of the corner of her eye and didn't dare look her full on, feeling her heartbeat quicken in her chest. "TWO?"

It was obvious that the other girl wasn't going to be diverted away from this or forget it somehow…it was at the point now where she was too invested to back off, and knowing Buffy, she would probably even follow Faith into the shower, natural prude nature or not, firing questions. Or even worse, if Buffy let her go and stayed behind in the motel room alone, she might start going through Faith's drawers, counting all her clothes and coming up with a tally sheet in multi color or something.

Shit. There was no getting out of this. And yet again, Faith suspected it was Earl's doings…somehow this was all his fault.

"I'm a minimalist, B," she replied somewhat tightly, turning her head, if not her body, to face the other girl, and Buffy gave a slight laugh that was more disbelieving than amused.

"A minimalist? Faith, I ware more pants in one day than you currently own!"

"It's Spartan," she muttered, a memory of the woman who had told her so quickly flitting into her mind that she worked to shove away, swallowing and lifting her chin before replying more clearly. "Look, B, it's fi-"

She stopped herself hurriedly, before what Earl would undoubtedly consider a lie left her lips, and cleared her throat, trying again as she was uncomfortably aware of Buffy's on her. "I don't need- I mean…the pants thing, it's not a-"

But everything that so instinctively rose to her mind to give as a response, everything she was dying to say out loud to get Buffy off of her back was a lie, and Faith stopped speaking, her mind struggling to find something that was truthful, but would also get Buffy to go away satisfied. Absolutely nothing came to mind, and it was beginning to dawn on her that maybe that was because there WAS nothing.

Faith felt her face heat, and she thinned her lips, looking back at the bathroom door; meanwhile her stumbling words had done nothing to assuage Buffy's growing suspicion as she looked at her with narrowed eyes, taking a hesitant step forward.

"Do you…Faith, do you get enough to eat?"

There was no way in hell that Faith could tell her the truth about that…how her dinner often consisted of whatever she could steal or knock out of a vending machine, how she stuffed herself every time she went to someone's home not because she was rude or gluttonous, but because it might be her only meal of the day. But "yes" would result in ass flaming, so Faith struggled, avoiding Buffy's eyes, to come up with some sort of response that wasn't a lie, yet wasn't completely mortifying to give.

She might want people to show an interest…but what Faith didn't want was to force people's pity on her.

She hoped Buffy would simply think her lack of response was due to disinterest or irritation, maybe ADD, but no, Buffy was still looking at her like she expected an answer. And a Buffy that didn't get what she wanted, Faith suspected by this point, was a Buffy who wouldn't let things slip without a fight. And comments…a LOT of comments.

"Faith, do you plan on answering anything I say with an actual reply, or are you going to stand there staring at the door?"

Yep, definitely not letting this slip by.

Faith let go of the doorknob deliberately, turning and flashing Buffy a quick smile that didn't reach her eyes before maneuvering around her bed to the door leading out on the opposite side of the room, grasping it instead as she shrugged, calling out to her over her shoulder.

"Look, don't worry about me, alright, there's a lot more shit going on all around the world than anything you could ask. You want to go patrol?"

"First off, it's daylight…not too sure we'd be having much to patrol for, unless there are some especially scary rabbits hanging around," Buffy smirked slightly, and Faith's hand tightened on the doorknob, her body leaning in towards it unconsciously. Okay, maybe patrol wasn't the smoothest suggestion, but did Buffy have to look so amused? "And second off…I'm asking you questions here, Faith, and I'm not letting you leave without answering them."

"What, am I under arrest here?" Faith blustered, shaking her head, some challenge to her tone. "Cause if I was I'd have the right to remain silent. Look, B, I'm getting out of here, getting a little stir crazy, and since you don't have a key…"

She raised an eyebrow pointedly, a clear indication in her own mind that this was Buffy's cue to exit. But obviously Buffy's idea of a clear sign and Faith's differed, because yet again, the other girl didn't move.

"Faith," she said slowly, as if the thought was only then occurring to her. "You don't have a job, right? So how are you getting money?"

Alarm bells shot off in Faith's brain, and her spine stiffened, her shoulders drawing together. She lifted her chin in instinctive defensiveness as she tensed her jaw, feeling her heart hammer harder and faster in her chest.

"Later, B," she said tightly, opening the door with every intention to step outside, but Buffy crossed over to her in two strides, taking her arm and stopping her escape. Faith gritted her teeth at the feeling of Buffy's warm hand on her arm, the gentleness combined with firm pressure of her touch, and though she wanted to rip her arm away, to keep going and leave her behind, when she told her feet to take a step, neither of them moved.

Buffy was still holding her arm, watching Faith's profile, and though Faith attempted to focus her attention on the door again and not on anything anywhere near Buffy's face, she could still see her in part, see the concern in her features as well as hear it in the softness of her voice.

"Faith…I won't yell at you or tell on you, or anything. Is it like you were saying to me the other day- want, take, have? Do you steal?"

Buffy knew that Faith stole. Hell, Faith had given her a crash course on how to do it, complete with getting arrested. What Buffy didn't know was how often Faith stole, and how necessary it was at times for her to get by…what she didn't know was that it wasn't her only way, at times, to achieve monetary means or other necessities.

"Sometimes," Faith muttered, seeing no way out of giving Buffy SOME kind of answer, and then raised her voice, attempting to pull her arm away from her. "Look, Buffy, I'm gonna-"

"You don't have to, you know," Buffy cut her off, her voice still soft. She didn't try to take Faith's arm again, but still stood near. Faith could feel her almost as if she were still touching her. "Mom worries about you, you know. Just like she does Willow and Xander. She'd feed you whenever you wanted if you asked, or wash your clothes, or whatever else. She wouldn't care."

No, Faith knew very well that Joyce Summers wouldn't find feeding her a few times a week. Faith had seen the way she looked at her sometimes with her brow furrowed and concern in her eyes, even as she smiled and spoke to her warmly, and she knew that Joyce did worry about her, once in a while, if the thought occurred to her. Joyce probably wouldn't mind if Faith went so far as to announce that she was moving in. After all, Xander and Willow already practically lived at Buffy's house, and they were pretty much Joyce's adopted kids. Joyce wouldn't turn down one more. She was too nice for that, too much of a class act.

But if she took Faith in, or even had her over or fed her as much as she did Willow and Xander, it wouldn't be because she wanted to, really, or because Faith was just naturally accepted as part of the Summers' family, or even because she was one of Buffy's best friends. She wasn't. It would be out of pity or obligation, because she thought Faith wanted or needed it, and that was what Faith wouldn't be able to stand.

She wouldn't be Joyce's good deed or sense of duty. She wouldn't be anyone's burden or obligation. She could damn well take care of her own self. She wasn't Joyce's kid or anyone else's for that matter. If her own mother hadn't wanted her, who the hell was Faith to want or expect anyone else to?

She would take care of herself. She always had.

"I'm not a charity case, I don't need shit from your mom- or you," Faith told Buffy roughly, hardening her expression and again turning the doorknob. "Are you gonna go now, or are you just-"

"Faith, how old are you?" Buffy blurted, and again Faith stilled.

The question itself didn't normally bother her, not that anyone usually asked it. Everyone seemed to assume Faith was at least 18, sometimes more like 21, and that was how she liked it. If not, it wasn't hard to lie. But now…all the questions she had never had to deal with in depth up to this point, were coming out all at once, and Faith didn't know what the hell she could do, or even what she should do.

Her every instinct told her to run…but could she really outrun Buffy when Buffy was determined to chase her down? If she avoided answering now, what about the next day? What if Buffy got everyone else in on it and they were all there, everywhere Faith turned?

There were some things Buffy could ask, if she thought to, if she somehow guessed, that Faith couldn't answer….some things that no one but her should ever know, that Faith herself tried every day to forget. What if Buffy plowed right into the middle of them? What if she somehow saw the answers and cut through any blocking Faith could try to put up to see right to the truth?

Faith's mind raced with images from a hundred directions, realizations of what Buffy might find out. What she might force out of her. Rapid visualizations of a cluttered, dingy apartment, of the beer cans and bottles overflowing the trash can and scattered about the floor, of empty eyes and slurred voices, hands jerking and pinching, slapping, shoving, some female and repeated, some male and new…she saw her mother's face, slack and staring without sight in death, the glimmer of anticipation in the vampires' eyes as they turned towards her, the broken, bloodied body of her Watcher left in their wake. She saw herself retrieving leftovers from the top of a dumpster, tearing out protective devices from clothes in the store changing room, slipping men's wallets out their pants before sending them out her motel door…she saw herself curled up in bed alone, her body shaking with sobs though her eyes didn't release tears, and Faith knew there was no way, absolutely no way in hell, heaven, or any other location in questionable existence, that she could ever let Buffy know any of it, even if only through questions.

And yet when she finally answered her, her voice was quiet, not as harsh as she intended…and at first, the answer was just that, an answer, before she concluded with a hardened tone to distance herself once and for all.

"I'm seventeen. But when I got here I was sixteen. Turned seventeen back in December. Not that anyone fucking asked. Now are you fucking happy, is that what you were fucking looking for?"

Again, an attempted break for the exit…again Buffy's hand shot out, pulling her back, stopping her intended flight. Faith yanked her arm roughly, trying to force her to let go, her adrenaline rising to the degree that she spun around to punch Buffy, her fist shooting towards Buffy's jaw. Buffy's other hand caught it with impressive timing, then held it tightly, not releasing Faith's hand as she looked her straight in the eyes, her voice rising.

"Faith…you're…if you're underage, how are you living here? I mean, I did it before, I know places take cash, but you don't have a job, and…Faith, why didn't you ever tell someone you're not eighteen? We could have helped you…at least given you the option of living somewhere else…I mean, HERE? Why here? You can't like it here, it's-"

"Yes I do," Faith snapped without thinking. "It's exactly what I want, I want to be left the fuck alone-"

But the warmth in her pants flared up threateningly, and she swore, shouting the correct recantation with more fury than reluctance or embarrassment. If Earl had chosen to appear to her then, she would have found some way to kick his angel ass the way he'd been begging for.

"OKAY, I don't like it here, it's not what I want, I fucking hate it, and I think it's fucking fucked up that it takes a fucking angel screwing with things to make anyone start thinking about that, IS THAT FUCKING GOOD ENOUGH OF A TRUTH FOR YOU?"

Buffy blinked several times, somewhat stunned, and Faith noticed her grip easing as she said in slow confusion, "What does Angel have to do with any of this?"

Shit…this was all too much. Way too much, and she couldn't stand here, she couldn't deal with this any longer. But even as Faith spun away from her, Buffy was following her out the door, keeping stride with her as she talked rapidly, staying right at her elbow.

"Faith, wait. Come on, we need to talk about this…"

"Go home, Buffy!" Faith snapped, jaw clinched, her heartbeat spiking in her chest, her blood pumping strongly in her veins, but Buffy ignored her, as always.

"Faith, why didn't you tell us, if that's how you felt? Why didn't-"

At that question, Faith came to a stop, spinning around to face her as a short, incredulous laugh broke from her lips. Who was the girl kidding? To be doing so much thinking suddenly, it was very damn limited and Buffy-like.

"Are you kidding? No one can be bothered to learn my name and birthday, but I'm supposed to fucking invite myself over to live with you? What the fuck other option did I have?"

Buffy's cheeks colored, and her eyes shifted away from Faith's direct gaze. For a moment Faith thought she had managed to shut Buffy down, that she could think of no other reply and was shamed or embarrassed enough to finally leave her alone.

But then Buffy lifted her chin, meeting her eyes again, and the determined set of her jaw and directness of her gaze was reflected in the decisiveness of her tone.

"Well, there will be options now. So come on. We're going to go find them. Now."

She didn't give Faith an opportunity to protest. Instead she seized her hand in a Slayer grip and started to haul her down the street with her. Though Faith physically and verbally protested, Buffy's only response was to painstakingly drag her forward. After a few moments Faith gave up; and even as her heart slammed in her chest and her mind shouted alarmed protests, a part of her also wondered what Buffy was doing…and maybe, just maybe, if she actually could make things better.

It was enough of a dissonance in thought that Faith was no longer sure what she wanted, or even what she should want. And strangely enough, Earl was remaining silent on the subject.


	12. 12

As soon as Faith realized that Buffy was dragging her to the high school, she knew she was in for it. She tried again to yank her hand away, to voice her protests against what was clearly a very bad idea, but Buffy meant business. When she told Faith it was time to discuss options, she clearly meant that she, Buffy, was going to do all the talking and all the directing, and Faith was simply being dragged after her like an unwilling prop.

Faith's stomach dropped when Buffy propelled her straight to the library, shoulders squared, chin lifted, not glancing back at Faith as she forcefully pushed the doors open and towed her inside. Already Faith's jaw was tensed, her pulse speeding, her cheeks stained red with dread. Why hadn't she fought harder? Why hadn't she run the second Buffy came through the door? Why hadn't she knocked her unconscious and fled town, anything to avoid this? Was she really doing this…really going to let Buffy barge in and screw around in her already screwy life where everyone would know all kinds of things about her that was none of their damn business?

But hadn't part of her, somehow, kind of hoped she would…hadn't she kind of been hurt, kind of hated her when she hadn't?

She was so screwed.

The only thing Faith could be glad of as Buffy burst through the library doors was that none of Buffy's friends were in there. Of course not, none of them could function without their star supergirl around to fawn over. But Giles and Wesley were there, and that was more than bad enough.

Wesley was standing by the book-stacked center table, blabbing on about nothing Faith was remotely interested in and gesturing for emphasis. He was dressed in one of his usual stuck-up suits and ties that he seemed to love so much. He was worse than Giles in the clothes department, and Faith bet Giles wore tweed underwear. Presumably it was Giles that Wesley's overload of comments was aimed towards, but Giles looked about as thrilled as Faith to be listening, and also to be paying about as much attention as she was. His head was bent as he studiously cleaned his glasses, but even so, the irritation in his expression was obvious to anyone who might happen to glance at him- except, apparently, Wesley.

Seeing the girls come in, Wesley drew himself up pompously, looking down his nose at them through his glasses, and even went so far as to cross his arms in the manner of a stern teacher giving a lecture as he cut off his one-way conversation with Giles and focused on the Slayers.

"Ah, yes, and the Slayers have finally chosen to grace us with their belated presence. I was beginning to think that you would neglect your training, yet again, which, as you have attended very few sessions so far, you certainly cannot afford to do. I am pleased to see that this is not so. However, continued lateness is not acceptable, as punctuality is very important-"

"Giles, we need to talk," Buffy cut him off, not even looking in Wesley's direction or acknowledging him as she pulled Faith forward with her, still gripping her arm, even as Faith attempted to step back and overbalance the shift of weight. Giles, looking up with his brow creasing in concern at the intensity of Buffy's face and tone, nodded slightly, his eyes shifting between Faith and Buffy's interaction.

"Certainly, Buffy…are you both quite all right?" he asked with a faint frown, his eyes shifting to Faith again, particularly Buffy's grip on her arm.

Faith gritted her teeth, wanting with fierce intensity to protest, but every protest that came to her mind would undoubtedly be interpreted by Earl as a lie. "I don't need to talk," "I don't need help," "I'm five by five," "I'm okay," "You are making a big deal of nothing…" she couldn't say anything without another not-so-entertaining ass flame trick, so what was she supposed to do, stand and let Buffy totally mortify her- an in front of Wesley, no less?

She was a complete moron to have let Buffy take her here.

"Buffy," she almost hissed, grabbing the girl's arm with her hand that wasn't currently being restrained, and digging in her nails. But Buffy ignored her, looking at Giles.

"Can we go talk in your office?"

"Excuse me," Wesley butted in with his chest puffed up in self-importance, his voice thick with attempted authority. "As your Watcher, whatever problems either one of you may encounter, you are to report them to me. Whatever you have to discuss with Giles, as I have repeatedly emphasized, must also be shared with me, as your Watcher."

"Like hell it will be!" Faith blurted, shaking her head vehemently, and she tightened her hand on Buffy's arm, repeating her name with her voice rising. "BUFFY-"

"Okay, fine," Buffy said, eyes narrowed as she turned to face Wesley, her voice even but also casting a challenge. "You're our Watcher, Wes? Maybe it's time you opened your eyes then. 'Cause you see, Faith here has been living in a crappy motel room, which, being open to the public, and not an actual home, any vampire can break into at any time and kill her in her sleep. She has two pairs of pants, no job, and no money, and oh yeah, she just now turned seventeen, so she's also underage. So, Wes, what is her WATCHER, the guy who's supposedly in charge of her WELFARE, going to do about it?"

For a few moments the air in the room seemed to thicken. Everyone was so stunned that they made no attempt at first to respond. Faith was as shocked as Giles and Wesley; though she had known Buffy would embarrass her no matter what she did or said, she hadn't known Buffy was going to blurt it all out like that in such a blunt way. Cheeks flaming, her heartbeat speeding considerably, Faith wanted to glare at Buffy with as much hatred as possible, but didn't dare, because that would involve looking her in the eye. She wanted to punch her in the mouth or run straight out the library doors, and keep going, never to come back. But somehow when she tried, she couldn't move; maybe shame and anger had paralyzed her, it was the only thing she could think of. Faith stood there, jaw clinched, strong feeling surging through her that her body did not react to satisfactorily.

Wesley was blinking like a bespectacled owl, his mouth open, and he stammered, his expression dumbfounded when he finally voiced a response.

"Seventeen? Faith is…seventeen?"

His eyes involuntarily dropped to her chest, as though trying to gauge the cleavage that was usually prominently displayed, before he flushed darkly and snapped his eyes back up to her face, then away all together before almost immediately shifting to gawk at her again. Giles too was looking at her with stunned bemusement, blinking often, and he frowned, shaking his head slowly.

"Seventeen? But…well, I always assumed…"

"Stop looking at me like that!" Faith blurted, her eyes narrowing fiercely as she finally found her voice, and she tried again to move, but found herself still unable to do so.

Furtively she attempted to move her arms, her legs, and when they refused to obey her, her heart leapt in alarm. What if she couldn't? What if she was stuck like this forever? Why couldn't she move, what the hell was wrong with her, was she crazy? Was this Earl again- was Earl making sure she couldn't run or hit people?

She hissed a furious insult to Earl in her head, fuming when she received no reply of any kind…and she still couldn't make herself move.

Giles had hurriedly shifted his gaze away, muttering an apology, as he took his glasses off and began to clean them all over again, but Wesley was still gawking at Faith, making no attempt to hide his shock or consternation.

"But, but if she is underage, then it is illegal to rent a motel room, much less to live alone in it," Wesley protested, and then drew himself up again, attempting to give Faith a stern stare. "Have you been using false identification in order to secure your wishes, young lady?"

"Oh, screw you, Wussley!" Faith spat, trying to lift her hand to flip him off and seething when she found that she couldn't, baring her teeth. What the hell was going on with her?

"Kind of missing the point, Wes. This isn't about Faith or anything she's done, this is about why the hell she's allowed to live like that, fake ID or not, and why the hell no one who's supposed to be her WATCHER knew she isn't already eighteen!" Buffy said hotly, her hand tensing on Faith's arm as her eyes moved from one man to the other, mostly focusing on Wesley, but including Giles as well. Faith could almost physically feel her growing indignation for her, and she again attempted to step in and sidetrack the focus, which was rapidly spinning out of her control and beyond her ability to salvage. Kind of hard when she couldn't MOVE.

"It doesn't matter, alright, so just mind your own damn business. I didn't ask you for anything, I don't want anything, I'm five by-shit!" she almost screamed as the all-too-dreaded heat began to flare at her backside, prompting her immediate and fierce recantation. "Fucking FINE, it matters, I want shit, it's not five by five, and I think you just enjoy humiliating me, so you, you just go fuck yourself!" she directed towards the ceiling.

The others, however, not understanding Faith's reason for the sudden backpedaling outburst, or who exactly it was she was yelling at, looked at her with uneasy eyes, which only increased Faith's anger and mortification. She turned her head away, her face burning, as Buffy started to address her in a slow, careful tone.

"Whoa…look, Faith, I know you're pissed, and you've got a right to be. But I'm trying to help you now. You're right, it does matter. It matters a lot, and someone should have realized that before today. Way before."

She turned towards the men again, her expression and voice hardening noticeably as she addressed them. "So why didn't anyone know? You two are supposed to be the Watchers. Giles, you knew all about me when I came here, the Council had been spying on me. Didn't they give you any information about Faith? Or did you just not care about it?"

Seeing as how Buffy hadn't seemed to care until the past ten minutes or so, Faith wasn't sure how she could act like Giles was any worse than she was. In fact, it was Buffy who had spent the most time with Faith and knew the most about her, though admittedly she didn't know much. It was Buffy who had seen Faith's motel and been inside it.

But apparently the two of them saw a difference that Faith didn't, because Giles lowered his head slightly, touching his glasses unconsciously, though not removing them, as shame came over his expression. He shook his head, stumbling in his reply.

"Well…the Council, they are, they are generally not very explicit in the sort of information they give…they, they often lack the knowledge or specific details themselves, or, or they prefer to keep them close to their chests, or…no, they are not generous with their information," he muttered, glancing at Faith as he exhaled, his shoulders dropping slightly. "I was not aware of the…the extent of your situation, Faith, and I should have made certain that I was. Whether from the Council, or, or from you, or…well, that, that was terribly neglectful and obtuse of me, I am afraid. There, there has been a lot occurring this year…quite, quite a lot to focus on…diverting my attention…but that is no excuse, no fault of your own, and, well, as I said, inexcusable for neglecting duty. I am terribly sorry," he said quietly, his eyes seeking Faith's and holding them with quiet, shamed sincerity.

Looking at Giles's eyes, hearing the regret in his tone and seeing it written clearly in his features, Faith squirmed inside, extremely uncomfortable. Ever since she had first met Giles, a large part of her had felt a need to hold him at bay, to keep him from getting too close, knowing too much, from letting herself like or need him too much. That had been her mistake before, with her first Watcher…nothing had come out of that but failure and pain. But even so, another part of her had been fiercely jealous…because even had she wanted and tried to achieve a close relationship with Giles, she suspected she could never get it, not like Buffy had. Giles had Buffy, his first and most important Slayer, his daughter of sorts, and as long as Faith stood beside Buffy, it was clear which of them would come last.

So for Giles to look at her like that now- not with pride and affection, as he did Buffy, but pity and regret…it wasn't what she wanted. It was almost more than she could bear.

If she could just move, she'd be halfway to New Mexico by now.

"Stop LOOKING at me like that!" she repeated testily, turning her head away, badly wanting to cross her arms, crack her knuckles, shift her weight, but all she could manage to move was her head. "Stop it already, all of you! This isn't-"

"Yeah it is," Buffy cut her off, her voice soft but firm, not letting her finish. "Whatever you were going to say Faith, it is."

As Faith glared at her with as much rage as a single look could communicate, almost choking on the curse words stumbling over themselves in her mouth but not quite escaping, she wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull her hair, to slap her, something, anything to show what she was feeling in a physical manner, in a way that didn't involve watching her every word. Buffy turned to Wesley, crossing her arms, and raised her eyebrow, her voice cool.

"And you? The Council told you nothing too?"

"Well, no, not very much," he admitted somewhat peevishly before raising his chin in a somewhat defensive manner. "I suppose they didn't think it necessary for a Watcher to know personal details of the Slayer's life, but rather only what is needed to train her. I must say I do not disagree."

Wrong thing to say, wrong manner to say it in…very, very wrong. As a surge of anger flared through Faith, she gritted her teeth, struggling to be able to seize control of her limbs, cursing Earl in her mind. Next time she saw him, she was ripping his wings off and using the feathers to stuff a pillow. But it was Buffy's reaction that was most predominant. Her eyebrows shooting up almost to her forehead, her eyes bulging in incredulous ire, Buffy took several threatening steps forward, her voice dropping to a ferocious hiss after her initial sputtering ceased. Wesley backed up, eyes darting in alarm, as she got very close, almost touching him.

"It's not NECESSARY to know that a teenage girl is unsafe when she goes to sleep at night, that she's forced to steal to have clothes and food? It's not NECESSARY to know that she might need someone to provide for her, someone like, oh, her WATCHER, the guy who's supposed to be actually WATCHING OUT FOR HER?"

"A Slayer is not truly a GIRL, Buffy," Wesley attempted, even as he eyed Buffy's steaming expression warily, edging away from her. "A Slayer, well, a Slayer is-"

"WE ARE GIRLS!" Buffy yelled, and Wesley flinched, gulping visibly. "WE ARE GIRLS! Not machines, not robots, not weapons, not soldiers that you can just order around and expect us to like it, not targets you can set out to take the hits you're too afraid to, we are GIRLS! TEENAGE GIRLS, so why is it so damn hard for anyone to think maybe we need help sometimes, maybe we want lives of our own, maybe we don't want to spend the rest of our lives looking, but not touching, no matter how much we want what we're looking at or how much it might be wrong to get it or how completely sexy it looks when-"

She came to a sudden halt, her face reddening, and shook her head, her voice dropping slightly. "Okay, that took a turn somewhere I didn't expect it to go…but, uh, you get the point. Which is, somebody better start giving Faith some money, or, or something, because- well, because that's what's right."

It wasn't entirely Faith that Buffy was so indignant over, Faith suspected. It hadn't been very long since Buffy had had her cruciamentatum- definitely a time that Buffy had felt devalued as a "teenage girl" and only regarded as a "Slayer," and like she hadn't been "watched out for." Still, although Buffy was probably talking about her own self as much as Faith, it was embarrassing anyway, and though she still, to her continued frustration, could not make herself move, Faith burst out with protests again, which promptly had to be amended thanks to Earl's pants warning.

"I don't want you or anyone else "watching out for me" or "providing for me," or giving me SHIT, I don't need shit from you! You can all just go- oh for fuck's sake, FINE, I NEED it, but I don't WANT to need it, and if I want you to give me shit, it's because I NEED it, not because I want pity or you to feel like you have to or because Buffy has to fucking force you to, and when the hell am I gonna be allowed to move again?"

The last part was addressed to Earl, but none of the others knew, of course. Buffy had released her arm long ago when she went after Wesley, and so looked back at her with confusion.

"I let go of your arm, Faith," she pointed out. "No one said you can't move…just don't leave, please, we need to get this settled. And you know I'll stop you if you try."

Yeah, no one but Earl, obviously. Why hadn't he warned her about this? This was cheating!

"Unless you're talking about moving out of the motel?" Buffy continued, completely oblivious to Faith's intending meaning of her words. "Well if that's what you mean, that's what I'm trying to get straight. You'll be moving soon as possible- tonight, hopefully."

"NO," Faith insisted, shaking her head, the words taut, barely soft enough to be registered as less than a shout. "NO, I'm not-"

"Faith, vampires can get into your motel room, or any other place like that- especially one where the locks break if you hit it one time," Buffy leveled, looking Faith in the eyes and speaking with calm, but also determination. She had turned away from Wesley, and Wesley took the opportunity to edge away further gratefully, his eyes darting nervously as he glanced towards her. "You need an actual house, or apartment, something not open to the public. They've come to your room before, it isn't safe. You know that. You need-"

"You all knew that!" Faith burst out with, wanting to point a finger at Buffy accusingly, to be able to gesture with both arms, to stalk about the room, if not right out the door, but unable to do more than adamantly jerk her head in Buffy's direction. She had never realized until then how much of her body she used to express herself…was this supposed to be some kind of stupid lesson too?

"You all knew that! Anyone with half a brain knows vampires can get into motel rooms, you all knew I live in a motel room, what, did you just not think about it, even though at least two of you knew one of them broke into my room before? No, you just didn't care! None of you cared before if I was so damn SAFE or not- HE still doesn't," Faith jerked her head towards Wesley, all the more frustrated that she couldn't gesture or move towards him. "So if you didn't care then, what the hell makes you think you can barge in "caring" now?"

As she had wanted, the confrontation rendered the others silent for several moments; they didn't have a good excuse on hand, and Faith could almost see them wracking their brains, certain they must have one, and coming up empty. Giles was cleaning his glasses intently again, his head lowered, shoulders hunched, and Wesley too seemed suddenly unable to even pretend to meet her eyes- though Faith suspected this was more from intimidation at her anger than shame at her words. It was Buffy who took a deep breath, biting her lip, and turned to face Faith.

"Faith…I don't know," she said softly. "I guess to you, we don't. I guess…well, I knew, but it's been weird, with me settling in again, and this thing with Angel, and, well, it's not that I didn't care…it's just…I really didn't think about it much," she admitted, blushing slightly, clear discomfort in her expression as her eyes shifted away briefly before meeting Faith's, newly determined. "And I thought you were older, I thought you had more than you do, I thought you liked it there, being on your own…and when you said all those things today, about what it's like, and that you don't….well…I'm sorry," she said quietly, with an earnestness that usually irritated Faith, but now almost unnerved her. "You could have told me, but I guess I could have asked."

How could she respond to that?

To Faith, Buffy not thinking about her meant Buffy didn't care, one and the same, but she had suspected that all along, even if she had hoped otherwise. Did Buffy care now? For real this time…was Buffy trying now because she really cared, or only because she felt like it was her job?


	13. 13

Faith wasn't sure, and she could feel her insides twisting, could feel herself swallowing involuntarily, before she roughly shook her head.

"No. I don't want…I mean, you're not…I don't care if you…"

She stopped, gritting her teeth in renewed frustration as every sentence that came to her mind turned out to be a lie she had to bite back before it came, a lie that she would only have to tell the truth about anyway if she spoke it out loud. She expected Buffy to say something about her apparent inability to finish a sentence, but instead it was Wesley who stepped forward, his voice again carrying an assertive tone matched by the uplift of his jaw.

"I believe, now that I have thought this through, that Buffy is correct," he began, and when Buffy rolled her eyes, opening her mouth, he barged ahead without pausing. "It is too dangerous for Faith, as a Slayer, to live alone in a motel room easily accessible to the undead who may wish her harm, and as a minor, also not within compliance of the law."

He paused, looking around expectantly as if expecting commendations for reaching this conclusion, and when Faith glowered, Buffy raised an eyebrow, and Giles only frowned, he continued, somewhat deflated, though not nearly enough, based upon what came out of his mouth next.

"As Faith's Watcher, it is, as Buffy stated, my duty to ensure that she is the most skillful Slayer she can be, which means, I presume, provisions of her basic needs, if no others are available to do so. In that case, it is of course necessary to conclude, Faith, that you will come to live with me in my flat."

Buffy's reaction to that was to widen her eyes, somewhat amused, more worried, before glancing hurriedly at Faith to gauge hers. Faith's, of course, was much more vehement, and if she could have moved, she would have reacted violently-hitting or punching something, running, kicking- and as it was, she tried furiously to force her body to be able to do so.

"No fucking way, no WAY am I living with HIM, no way in hell!" she shouted, her head jerking towards Wesley. "Are you out of your fucking mind, man? No way in HELL!"

"Such language is uncalled for and unnecessary, young lady, and not befitting a Slayer," Wesley chided, drawing himself up again as he looked down his nose at her, speaking with as much dignity as he could manage. "It is proper procedures, and therefore-"

"I don't give a shit about what's "proper procedure," I'm not living with you! I'll hitch a ride to hell first!" Faith nearly screamed, adrenaline flowing strongly through her veins with nowhere to bleed out from in the face of her immobility.

Buffy, some alarm coming to her eyes as she caught Faith's expression, stepped forward and touched her shoulder. Though Faith wanted to spin from her grasp, she was unable to do so. All she could do was turn a fierce glare in Buffy's direction and hiss at her not to touch her, both actions which were completely ignored.

"It seems to me as if you're doing a fine job of knocking on the door of hell all on your own," Wesley muttered, the comment eluding neither Faith's ears nor her anger, but before she could completely verbally explode, he went on to provoke her further, speaking in the most authoritative tone he could muster.

"Faith, as your appointed Watcher, I am therefore your guardian as well. If you are underage, you must live under your Watcher and guardian's supervision. I therefore order you to-"

"ORDER? You fucking ORDER me?" Faith shouted, eyes bulging, face flooding with her ire, and though she could not move, as determinedly as she was trying, Buffy clearly didn't know this, because she wrapped her arms around her, pinning her arms down and holding her in a rather unnecessary restraint that was also an embrace.

"Calm down," Buffy said softly but firmly into Faith's ear, her arms tightening, though Faith was not and could not resist her restraint. She probably assumed Faith was just faking her out, so she would relax her grip enough for her to get free. "No one will make you live with Wesley, because as annoying as he is, we all know that would probably end in murder, and it wouldn't be yours. Calm down, Faith. Breathe."

At first Buffy's tone was just as infuriating as everything else, as well as her proximity…but then when Faith actually did attempt to slow her breathing, she could feel herself starting to relax against Buffy, even to sort of enjoy her touch. Buffy had never really hugged her before…and maybe being restrained because Buffy thought Faith would knock Wesley back to England didn't count as a hug, but Faith could feel Buffy's breasts against her back, her breath on the back of her neck, the skin of Buffy's arms heating hers, and it was close enough to a hug to almost count.

Why the hell was she thinking about hugs anyway? Was this Earl too? How much of today was Earl, how much of it was Faith completely losing her mind?

"I'm not fucking living with him," Faith repeated, more calmly now, though with an obvious edge in her tone. She and Buffy were focused on Wesley, but it was Giles who spoke up.

"Faith is probably correct in that she should not stay somewhere which she so strongly opposes and is uncomfortable with," he said slowly, and Faith nodded fast, seizing on this show of support.

"I'm not comfortable anywhere, alright? So why don't you all just leave me be and mind your own business like usual?"

They all ignored her and what was, in Faith's mind, the most reasonable statement that had been said all day. Instead they began to converse among themselves as if Faith weren't there, with Buffy still keeping her in a partial restraint, though she had loosened her hold somewhat.

"Wes, you want to support Faith so much, get her some money, some clothes, some food- ordering her to live with you is a punishment, not a prize," Buffy remarked, and when Wesley sputtered, offended, she turned her head towards Giles, her voice brightening. "Giles, she could live with you! You've got a spare bedroom- she doesn't hate you as much as Wesley, not that THAT is saying much-"

"Excuse me?" Wesley huffed, and Faith too was affronted.

"SHE is standing right here, you know, and SHE doesn't want-"

"Er, well, Buffy, I do suppose that is one option…perhaps we should look at others as well before making a final decision, though," Giles said awkwardly, stealing a hurried glance at Faith before looking back at Buffy, shifting his weight uncomfortably and touching his glasses absently. "I just think…well, perhaps she would be more comfortable living elsewhere, though of course I would contribute to her needs, to, uh, providing for them, that is, if you need. Perhaps she would prefer to live with you and your mother," he added as if suddenly inspired, straightening slightly. "The two of you are friends, and fellow Slayers, and it would be quite convenient for all-"

"Is anyone fucking listening when I say I don't want to live with any of you?" Faith exclaimed, but Giles and Wesley again barely glanced at her, and Buffy, even though she was standing right behind her with her arms still absently around her, still was apparently too focused on her own thoughts to notice.

"Oh…uh…I guess I could check it out with Mom…" she said slowly, and though Faith couldn't see her face, she heard reluctance in her tone. "I guess that could…if Mom said…maybe…"

"I know damn well none of you want to take me, and I damn well don't want to go, so why don't we make this real simple and drop it, because I'm not gonna live with any of you!" Faith said heatedly, sparing Buffy of further stumbling diplomatic response.

Of course, seeing as she couldn't back herself with any movements or gestures to prove her point, no one took her seriously. Did she really have to be capable of following through with violence for anyone to listen to a word she said?

"It is against the law, Faith, for a child to live as you are, and as your Watcher, it is my sworn duty to uphold the law-" Wesley began, and Faith almost spat at him.

"One second I'm not even a GIRL, now you're saying I'm a fucking CHILD?"

"Wherever you go, Faith, whatever is decided, it will be in your best interest of your comfort and safety," Giles attempted to smooth over, his voice apologetic as he touched his glasses again, his eyes shifting away. "Whether you stay with, with Buffy and her mother, or, or myself, or under alternate arrangements-"

"She will stay with her WATCHER-" Wesley said indignantly, but Giles spoke over him, his voice rising slightly.

"Whatever the case- it should have been done long ago, it should have been accomplished from the start, and I am terribly sorry I-"

"I'm not staying with any of you!" Faith screamed, her patience entirely shot, and suddenly everyone was talking at once, not bothering to listen to any but themselves.

"Faith, this in no way indicates-"

"You will certainly go and that is all-"

"Faith, come on, you said you wanted help, why are you doing this now, we're trying to do what you want. You said-"

"Could you people POSSIBLY get any louder? You know, borrow my megaphone, order a mic, maybe use the intercom system in Synder's office, just to make SURE that every single person still in this pathetic place hears every details of your oh-so-fascinating fight? Because those of us who are attempting to walk by with superiority MAY not have QUITE been able to understand a word here or there. And by the way, what is it with you letting people yell in a library, Giles, some freaking librarian you are! Didn't you even read the librarian handbook, that's like a rule or something."

All four of the library's occupants started as a loud, scathing female voice cut through theirs, a voice that was more than used to making itself heard, and turned towards the door (head only in Faith's case) to see Cordelia Chase stride with utter assurance in her step and disgusted irritation in her expression into the library. She took a moment to give Wesley a quick once-over before turning her attention mainly to the other three, one hand on her hip as she rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, can't you Slayers go anywhere without threatening bloody gore and violence or getting it sicced on everyone else?"

Cordelia…perfect, just what Faith needed to make an already unbearable situation that much worse. Faith eyed her almost desperately, feeling her heart pound, even as she fixed her with her most homicidal stare. What was she doing in school this late anyway- hoping to catch a glimpse of Wesley? If she started running her mouth about earlier today, and the fire pants incident, Faith would have to hurt her, that was all there was to it. Somehow she would make herself move again. She would-

"Is there something you need, Cordelia?" Giles asked wearily, running one hand over his face.

Faith didn't fail to notice Wesley suddenly redden and fidget at Cordelia's presence, adjusting his tie, shifting his weight, and hurriedly looking away any time he came anywhere close to eye contact with her. Buffy on the other hand was crossing her arms, stepping slightly further away from him, and looked more than a little exasperated by Cordelia's presence.

And Faith? Faith didn't dare to say a tying to her, just in case Cordy got pissed off and decided to retaliate.

The few remaining secrets of Faith's present existence were balanced perilously in the possession of a vindictive cheerleader, and she was standing in a room with the exact people Faith didn't want to know about them…this could be very bad.

"Er, hello, Cordelia, we, we were just, er, having a discussion-" Wesley began to stammer. Faith would have thought Cordelia, who had clearly been attracted to him before and defended him to a ridiculous extent, would have waited for him to finish and instantly agreed with whatever he said, but she was surprised when Cordelia instead turned the same stony expression towards him that she had the others, cutting him off.

"I HEARD what you were discussing, as did every living creature passing within a ten mile radius," she rolled her eyes, waving her hand dismissively. "We all get the not-so-newsworthy breaking news that Faith is poor and young and has vampires breathing down her neck wanting to rip her poor, young, Slayer throat open. We also all get the startling revelation that none of you can make a decision to save your sorry loser lives, and since I'm not gonna be able to walk the walls peacefully until you can, which is a big fat never, I'll make one for you. Faith, you're coming home with me and staying in my pool house."

There were very few sentences that could have been uttered that would have been a bigger shock to the other four people in the room. Four heads swiveled almost violently in her direction, four pairs of eyes bulged, and four aghast voices blurted in perfect unison, though with varying inflection, "WHAT?"

"Am I the only one here who thinks things through?" Cordelia rolled her eyes, exhaling with continued impatience and gesturing as she spoke towards each person. "Faith would either choke Giles and Wesley with scones or rape them in their sleep. Buffy can't even share a pencil, let alone her house and mom, without her jealousy issues coming out, and Joyce is poor enough with the one Slayer eating her out of house and home without adding another. We just fired our pool guy after Daddy caught him with that trampy girl in the hot tub, and I can work it where we don't get a new one for a while. The pool house has its own bathroom, a kitchen, and no vampires can break in and suck her dry. My parents never go there because they don't actually use the pool, the other servants' quarters are on the other side of the property, and I don't have to actually see you if I don't want to, which I don't, unlike everyone else who's playing Hot Potato Slayer around here. Keep it clean, don't smoke, don't drink, don't bring home dead things, don't bring home nasty guys to do your kinky sex with, and leave me alone unless I indicate otherwise, or I'll kick you out on your ass. Otherwise, what do I care, it's just a poolhouse, you can't screw it up too bad. And if it stops you losers from screaming anymore and dithering around NOT making decisions, all the better."

Four continued gawking stares in Cordelia's direction, although Buffy scowled indignantly after a few moments, muttering, "I do too share my pencils. Unless it's the sparkly ones…or if I think they'll chew the eraser…"

Faith was having a hard time processing Cordelia's declaration to not only categorize it as real, rather than a hallucination or a delusion, but to come to the conclusion that she ahdnt' somehow misunderstood it. There was no way it could be right…that Cordelia Chase, Cordelia who hours ago had been insulting her clothes, ass, and whatever else she could come up with, Cordelia whose hair and slenderness she had threatened, Cordelia who possessed knowledge Faith was desperate to have concealed…that Cordelia would stand there now and offer her a place to stay at her rich-girl house- a place to herself? A place with food and a pool, a place that was vampire free, yet didn't have people pitying her hanging over her shoulder, trying to belatedly "look out" for her?

This had to be a trick. There was no way.

"Are you serious?" she asked with suspicious incredulity, her eyes narrowing. "Because if you're not you better-"

"Oh, please," Cordelia rolled her eyes, huffing with continued disgust and crossing her arms, looking down her nose at Faith. "Like I don't have better things to do than make up lies to try to crush your fragile Slayer ego? Come or don't, whatever floats your boat and spanks your inner moppet, but don't' look at me if you stay with one of them and end up going to prison because you staked them to death or something."

The words were flippantly tossed out, but they hit Faith straight to her core, making her inhale suddenly and sharply as her mind flickered back to the open eyes of the man in the alley, the man she had killed and whose death was no longer a reality, to anyone except herself… a man she had consciously been pushing aside the memory of. And maybe it was that, the image of the man's face still fresh in her mind, that made her speak up, agreeing.

"Okay…pool house is a plan."

"Whatever," Cordelia shrugged, and she was already heading for the library door, clearly expecting Faith to follow. "I'll call a taxi, because you still smell like smoke, and no way are you messing up my upholstery."

She walked with her head held high through the library doors, leaving Buffy, Giles, and Wesley still stunned behind her…and it was then that Faith realized it wasn't until that moment, when Cordelia was walking away, that Faith could finally seize control of her limbs to follow her.


	14. 14

Standing in the kitchen area of Cordelia's family pool house, aka her new place of residence, Faith repeatedly opened and closed the doors of the pantry, counters, and refrigerator, looking again and again with continued disbelief at the food and drinks, dishes and silverware she found inside. All of it now apparently for her exclusive use…all of it free of charge, no strings attached. Hers without stealing or begging, bargaining or striking deals…well, not much of a deal anyway, since her only real requirement was to not trash the place.

It was simply unbelievable.

Faith couldn't remember when she had last eaten food that required silverware, let alone used cups that weren't paper and silverware that wasn't plastic. And now she had rows of dishes and cups and plates and spoons, cans and boxes and bags of all sorts of food, not to mention condiments and frozen things, a microwave, toaster, stove, and dishwasher. Hell, she didn't even know how to USE a dishwasher.

And that wasn't all. She had a freaking table and chairs- no more eating on the run, or sitting on her motel bed while watching a TV with zero reception. THIS place had a small but comfortable couch, a side table with a lamp that actually worked when Faith flicked it on, a TV twice the size and 100x the quality of her motel one, and a rug that wasn't stained with cigarettes, mud, semen, blood, vomit, and whatever else had long ago obscured the original color of the motel room's carpet. Her bathroom had a tub AND a shower, without stains, was clean, equipped with supplies, and also twice the size of the motel's, probably three times the size. Her bedroom had a window looking out onto the Chases' huge outdoor pool, a full-sized bed with a nice blue comforter, and a nightstand, dresser with a mirror, and lamp, neither overly feminine nor masculine in its décor.

All of this had been for a servant- just ONE of the Chases' many servants. And it was the nicest place, other than her Watcher's home, that Faith had ever lived in.

From the moment Cordelia had announced rather than asked that Faith was going to move into her pool house, everything had become almost surreal to Faith, as if she were just imagining what was happening. She had been half convinced that she was hallucinating, or that it was another of Earl's games, and even now, exploring her new boundaries alone, it was just beginning to dawn on her that maybe all of this was really going to stick.

She had followed Cordelia out the library door almost struck dumb, her mind whirring with confusion and near denial, as Cordelia had flipped out her cell phone with one manicured hand, calling for a taxi that she then gave the address of her home to. Flipping her phone closed, she had instructed Faith over her shoulder impatiently as she started to slide into her own car.

"They'll be here in a minute, I'll be waiting for you to open the gates for you when you get to my place. Unless you're getting stuff from your motel first, then if you're doing that, you just have the taxi guy ring for me at the gate and I'll come out to let you in."

She had turned back towards her car, but then stopped suddenly, a strange expression crossing her face, almost irritated. Then she dug into her clearly very expensive purse and wallet, coming up with a ten dollar bill that she thrust in Faith's direction. When Faith blinked, more stunned than ever, Cordelia rolled her eyes, snapping out her explanation.

"Something tells me since you're so freaking poor you can't buy a Happy Meal or decent haircut, you don't have the cash to pay for a taxi either. Don't get any ideas, this isn't a freeby. I'm not an ATM, not that YOU would have a clue how they work. You're gonna pay me back, or better yet, Giles or Wesley is. There's limits to me being generous, you know."

Faith knew she should say thank you. For the money, for being rescued from the horrors of living with one of the British duo or from Buffy and her mother and their well-meaning way of making her feel like a complete loser. Cordelia might think she was a loser, but at least she said so to her face instead of hovering around carefully choosing her words and looking at her with guilt and pity. Cordelia might be a spoiled vapid bitch, but at least she was a spoiled vapid bitch who would leave Faith alone.

Faith knew she should thank her…she even opened her mouth with the intention of doing so, but somehow the words wouldn't come, and she cleared her throat instead. Cordelia didn't seem to expect them or seem too interested in waiting around for her to say anything anyway; turning her ignition, she merely yelled out the window to Faith, "All cigarettes, booze, or kinky sex toys STAY at the motel!" before driving away, leaving Faith staring at the money in her hand.

Within a few minutes, a taxi had pulled up alongside her, gesturing her inside, and Faith had distractedly instructed him to her motel, stopping to pack up a few things she would be taking with her to Cordelia's. There wasn't much- her clothes, toothbrush, shoes, weapons, and hair stuff, really- and in less than five minutes she was back in the taxi, on her way to Cordelia's place.

Faith had known, of course, that Cordelia was rich, but nothing could have prepared her for her first look at her house as the taxi drove up to its gates. For one thing, to call Cordy's residence a "house" was like calling a machete a pocket knife. It was four stories tall, seemed to Faith to cover half a mile in its length, and surrounded on all sides by a huge iron gate that required a code to be punched in for it to open. It was a freaking mansion, if not a palace, and one thing Faith could be sure of was that no vampires would get into THIS place.

Cordelia, upon being summoned by the taxi driver- Faith didn't even attempt to try to work the system at the gate- had let Faith in, telling her the code to get in with a continued impatient edge to her tone, as if eager to be done with her duty for the day and be allowed to finally be free from Faith's sight as she concluded with a reminder of all the things Faith wasn't allowed to do anywhere near her property as she let her around the side of the sprawling building to the pool area. She unlocked the gate there as well, and then the door to the pool house, before handing Faith the key. Faith didn't pay attention; she was too busy staring at everything she was passing by, unable to get over how MUCH the brunette had. By the time Cordelia handed her the key, saying "Don't lose it, because if I have to steal Daddy's to make you a new one I might just take the easier route and kick you out instead," she was attempting to focus more on the present, but by then, Cordelia was leaving, and the only thing left for her to do was look into her new place.

Faith had barely started to look into the rooms before the phone rang; she had jumped, not realizing she had a phone, and then hesitated as to whether to answer it. After all, whoever was calling surely wasn't wanting to talk to HER, how would they even know her number when she herself didn't?

By the tenth ring curiosity took over, however, and Faith had picked up the phone. It was Wesley, and he had indeed been calling for her. Obviously Cordelia must have given him the number at some point, or else the "trampy girl" Cordy's pool guy had been caught with in the hot tub had actually been Wesley. Whatever the case, he had said in a rather nervous, stumbling manner that Faith would now be receiving a weekly allowance from himself, as her Watcher, towards clothes, food, and other necessities. Faith wasn't sure what she had said to him in response, but both had felt so obviously awkward and embarrassed that they had hung up as fast as possible. Still, money every week didn't suck, especially if she didn't have to do anything for it.

Faith opened her refrigerator door again, not yet retrieving anything, but merely standing there, basking in the cold with her head slightly tilted back, her eyes closed. She couldn't remember the last time it had even been an option for her to do that…it must have been almost a year ago, back in her Watcher's house.

She was still standing there in front of the fridge when a drawling male voice spoke from behind her, sounding calm, but rather amused. "Looks like you're settling right in…everything works out pretty good when it goes by God's plan, don't it, Faith?"

If there was one sure way to shatter Faith's continued awe, the tentative peace that had begun to settle through her, that was it, for Earl to finally show up and give her a reminder of all the misery and mortification she faced at his hand earlier in the day. And now that he was standing there right now, smiling that stupid satisfied smile, Faith was damn well gonna show him how she felt, and she was gonna do as much damage as she could.

Spinning around on her heels, Faith launched herself directly at Earl, hitting him with a punch in the kidneys that was enough to severely disable most men younger and stronger than him in appearance, but which seemed to have no effect on Earl whatsoever. When he just looked at her with a raised eyebrow, Faith hit him again, her anger intensifying. How dare he not be hurt, how dare he stand there and look at her, just LOOK at her, after what he'd done, what he'd made her do all day?

"You BASTARD, you cheating cheapshot little BASTARD!" she yelled, punctuating her words with further blows and strong kicks to his shins. "You made me say all that shit to them, it's none of their business, it's none of YOUR business, you fucking BASTARD!"

"Well hello to you too, Faith," Earl said dryly, still making no attempt to fend her off as he stood there with his arms crossed, looking down at her calmly and showing no signs of pain from her rather vicious attack. "What's wrong, girl, you don't like the décor? Well compared to where you were, I've gotta say that this is-"

"Don't talk to me about fucking décor, you wouldn't let me fucking MOVE!" Faith nearly screamed, her fingers digging harshly into Earl's crossed arms as she thrust her face close to his. "I had to stand there like a fucking moron and hear them all talk about me like I wasn't' even THERE because you fucking FROZE my ass, not to mention set it on fire too, you bastard, do you know what the hell you made me look like, why the hell do you DO that, what the fuck is WRONG with you?"

"It got you here, didn't it?" was Earl's calm reply, and Faith completely lost it.

Seizing Earl's shoulders, her fury surging so strongly through her that she felt as though her entire body was vibrating with its heat, she started to throw him off balance, to fling him down to the ground to start in on him in earnest.

Only then Earl's arms suddenly enclosed around her, much more strongly than she would have anticipated…only then, Earl reached to hold her, stunned and immobilized, against him, before she felt everything around her spinning away from her as she started to disappear into nothing, falling away.

Faith tried to scream, tried to reach out, to struggle to break from Earl's grasp, but she couldn't seem to bring herself to move, and she was afraid of what might happen if she was able to manage. Clinging frantically to Earl's shoulders, her nails biting into his skin, she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, her stomach dropping sharply as she continued to fall through time and space.

She was bracing herself for a jarring, probably painful landing, but it never came. Instead she was just suddenly standing again with ground beneath her feet, but when she opened her eyes, everything was different.

She was standing on a large platform of some kind, with marble white pillars surrounding it on all sides. It looked like something out of a movie about Greek gods, or something, like from Hercules…especially since the platform was located on the top of a very large, very tall mountain. As far as the eye could see they were surrounded by mountains and valleys of large heights….Faith could see no other signs of life, nor hear any sound except that of her own heightened breathing. What the hell…where were they? Was this place even REAL?

"What the hell?" she blurted aloud, scrambling back several steps from Earl as her eyes darted, careful even so to keep from the platform's edge. "If this is heaven, I'm REALLY gonna kill you."

"You wanted to fight me, Faith," Earl responded, setting his feet a little wider apart and slowly cracking his knuckles one at a time. "Here's a place you can go to it. So let's go, girl. See if you can hold your own."

Faith stared, entirely disbelieving, but he just looked back at her, apparently very serious.

"No way," she shook her head. "You're bluffing, you've got some stupid trick up your sleeve."

"You might lie, Faith, but your angel doesn't," Earl smiled, shrugging. "Against our code. You want to fight, well come on, girl, what's a Slayer like you against an old man like me?"

He was serious. What the hell was wrong with him, that he'd WANT to fight her?

"I'll kill you," she warned, lifting her chin, and Earl chuckled.

"Already dead, Faith, being an angel and all. Come on now, you ready to go?"

"You'll cheat," she said suspiciously, her instincts to fight already wavering at Earl's complete lack of resistance or caring, and Earl smiled.

"You use your powers, Faith, and I use mine. Sounds fair enough to me."

"No it fucking isn't, not when I can't set YOUR ass on fire!" she burst out with, and Earl chuckled, his smile warming.

"Alright, body strength only then. You think you can take me, girl? Then let's see it."

With a challenge like that, Faith and her pride couldn't' refuse. She dove straight at him, intending to tackle him to the ground- only to have Earl simply seize her arms and push her away.

Somewhat taken aback, Faith spun into a flipping kick aimed towards his spine- only to have Earl seize her foot in the air and thrust it and her balance back to the floor. Furious now, Faith sprung up with fierce determination, one hand seizing Earl's arm to twist behind his back and thrust him to the ground, the other reaching to dig sharp nails into his face. Somehow she ended up spinning away from him, almost falling onto her face.

Over and over this happened, with few of Faith's hits landing, and she finding herself repeatedly thwarted. As her rage and frustration grew, she found her movements growing wilder, less effective even as she tried harder, and in the end she wound up flat on her back, panting, eyes wide, but somehow calmer in her disbelief, her anger finally spent. How the hell could he do that?

Granted, Earl was breathing heavily too when he slumped down beside her, and she gave herself credit for that much. Still, she should have kicked his ass straight back to heaven, and she found his small, weary smile to be as irritating as usual, even with her renewed calm.

"Do that a lot?" she asked when she was breathing more evenly, her body aching, and Earl laughed, shaking his head.

"Only with people as pissed off and stubborn as you."

"Why, you set all their asses on fire too?" Faith smirked, turning her head towards him and rolling over slowly to her side, and Earl laughed again.

"No, but maybe I should have with the last girl I had. Name was Grace, Grace Hanadarko. Girl was hardheaded as a statue, and I think you still got her beat. And you're a good 25 years younger," Earl mused, shaking his head. "Gotta love a challenge."

"Grace, huh?" Faith raised an eyebrow, propping her chin up with her palm. "You got a thing for girls with ironic virtue names or something?"

"I've got a CALLING towards girls who are hellcats," Earl corrected wryly.

When Faith's eyes widened in surprise and she laughed with startled appreciation, he continued, looking her straight in the eye. "Hellcats, who are also lost girls with good hearts and instincts, and the potential to be someone great."

For a moment Faith paused, the quiet sincerity of his tone making her uneasy, unsure of what to expect, before she smiled quickly and carelessly, rolling her eyes.

"Nice try with the flattery, Earl. You're still a cheating bastard."

"Not trying to flatter you, Faith," Earl said steadily, still looking straight towards her eyes in an attempt to force her to hold his gaze. "Just the truth. I'm just telling you how things are. One thing you can count on from me, I'm always gonna tell you how things are."

Faith shifted her eyes away, uncomfortable. Who was he to tell her that…why would he say that anyway? Who would ever look at Faith Lehane from Southie and tell her that she could be great?

Maybe she had thought it once, when she was younger, when she had just been called as a Slayer and everything was different. Maybe then, when her Watcher had been alive…maybe she had even thought so too. She had said so. Back then, she had said Faith was special, that Faith was chosen…and Faith had believed.

But now? Now her Watcher was dead, and the way it had happened, the way Faith hadn't saved her…well, Faith wouldn't let herself think about it, not anymore, not ever, but it had been her fault. She knew that. Now she was only the backup Slayer, literally and metaphorically, and there was nothing about her that was completely unique or special, not even her powers, not since Buffy had them too.

She could say to everyone that she was above them all, that she was strong and powerful, chosen and special, rare and necessary. She could even say it to herself. But deep down, Faith could not believe it.

She had no family, no real friends, no education, no future except as Buffy's backup, and she couldn't even watch out for her own self, because here she was now, living in the servant's quarters of a girl who didn't even like her, because there was nowhere else for her to go. And the worst of it was she wanted to be here…that it was the best and only place she could think to be.

She didn't have potential to be great. She didn't have potential to be anything more than what she already was- second best, all the time, in every way. Good, but not great…accepted, but not needed. And definitely not loved.


	15. 15

Thinking about it sent a sudden stir of sadness through her chest, as well as a twinge of anger, and Faith stomped down hard on the anger, preferring it considerably to grief. She tensed her jaw as she lifted her chin, sitting up abruptly and wrapping her arms around her knees as she stared at Earl in a way that she hoped was hard and uncompromising.

"Why did you take me to CORDELIA'S of all places? Why the hell didn't you just leave me alone already?"

"Didn't take you anywhere, Faith. Seems to me Miss Chase offered all on her own," Earl clarified, pushing his own self up to a seated position to face her as he sat Indian-style, legs crossed. "As for why you're here, well, right now, it's just where you need to be."

"What, it's the will of God or something?" Faith rolled her eyes, and when Earl nodded, replying, "Yep, that would be why," she exhaled loudly, shaking her head.

"Figures. And what, freezing AND burning my ass, is that what's needed to be done too? That also God's will?"

"As a matter of fact, it was," Earl replied calmly, nodding, even as Faith sighed again, rolling her eyes to the sky. "You know, girl, half your problem in life right now is how you deal with the truth about your feelings, and about how things are versus how you want them to be. You either lie to yourself or everyone else about it, or when you can't do that, you run from it. You don't deal head on with the truth about how things are, about how you feel and what you need…it gets to the point where you forget what IS the truth, and that's where you really get in a fix. Because your head might forget, Faith, but your heart never does."

Faith felt her heartbeat quickening, her cheeks staining red, and she quickly turned her eyes away, gritting her teeth. She tried to push aside Earl's gentle words, to ignore them entirely without caring at all how they applied to her…she tried to tell herself that they didn't. but the more she tried to ignore them, the more persistently they clung to her mind, even as she tried to talk over them.

"My HEART? What the hell are you, some kind of hippie, preaching all that love everyone, peace on earth, free your mind kind of crap? Speaking of which, what the HELL, Earl, why did you make my pants flame when I said I was free, what the hell are you talking about, saying I'm not FREE?" she blustered, her voice a little louder and harsher than normal, her eyes narrowed in her attempt to shove Earl's words from her consciousness.

But even before he answered she knew she'd only given him new fodder to work with; she could see the change in his eyes even before he opened his mouth.

"Because you're not, Faith," he said seriously, his expression soft, even loving, fatherly, but still in its conviction. "Because until you know who you are and where you stand with God's will and as His child, until you learn to love yourself and to feel secure in God's love for you, and until you learn to love Him back, you ain't never gonna be truly free. You might not see any bars around you keeping you locked up, but they're there, Faith. And only you can choose to take them away."

For several moments Faith had no reply to that. It wasn't the words Earl had said so much as how he said them and how he looked that got to her, making her feel as though she couldn't' quite catch her breath. She shook her head fast, throwing out a response as quickly as she could think to.

"I said I'm not getting into any of your stupid God stuff."

"Not now," Earl agreed, smiling. "Another day, another task…and it ain't tomorrow."

Faith looked over at him with clear apprehension, half scowling. She had almost forgotten that the stupid "task" was apparently not a one-day thing.

"Yeah? Well, what is it then?"

"Well, we're gonna work on not lying for another day or two, since the first day went so well and got you so far," Earl began, shifting his weight comfortably on the floor and casting an appreciative look at the view around them before looking back at her. "Pretty up here ain't it? All those mountains and all."

Faith was in no mood to contemplate the beauty of nature. Making an affronted noise in her throat, she scrambled to her feet, looking down at Earl with indignant protest as she gestured emphatically.

"What? You can't do the same thing twice, how the hell is that fair? I've only got two pairs of pants left!"

"Then I guess you better start telling the truth more, huh?" Earl replied calmly, raising an eyebrow. "You've still got to work on that one, Faith, and you're gonna keep working on it until you learn that lesson good."

He got to his feet slowly, standing to face her, as Faith glared. He chuckled, his eyes dropping to her frayed and worn jeans.

"'Sides, I hear tell you've earned yourself a clothing allowance, so I wouldn't be too concerned about that. Start telling the truth and you don't have nothing to worry about."

"Are you trying to say YOU never lie?" Faith muttered, crossing her arms and exhaling with loud irritability. She would protest more, but after having her ass kicked about five minutes ago, she was fairly sure she wouldn't be able to control this situation. Not that knowing as much made her resent it any less…it just made it pointless to argue much. Especially if arguing might encourage Earl to make it worse for her then he would have.

"I don't," Earl replied easily, shaking his head. "Against my code, not to mention God's. Never have and never will."

Partly disgusted, partly incredulous, Faith shook her head, making an exasperated noise again as she rolled her eyes upward. Earl watched her, speaking seriously in response.

"Faith, anyone who lies to get what they want or to protect themselves is only lying to themselves, 'cause you ain't gonna get what you intend to get. Chances are, you're gonna end up getting exactly what you didn't want."

"Yeah? So if you lie to a knife-carrying murderer that you like their hair, you're better off telling them it looks like shit?" Faith shot back, and Earl chuckled again.

"Well, first off, you know you'd find a way to protect yourself without having to say a word, I got no doubts on that. And second, if someone's crazy enough to decide whether you live or die based on what you think of their hair, well, chances are you're gonna say the wrong thing soon enough whether you like their hair or not."

He shook his head, still smirking, before turning his full attention back to her. "Got another task for you too, along with the lying. I still remember you and your little "visitor" last night, and I watched some of your interactions with Miss Summers today too, and that clued me in on what we need to be focusing on tomorrow. That would be your sexual behavior, Faith."

Faith's eyebrows shot up, and she almost choked, her mouth opening. What the HELL?

"My sexual behavior with BUFFY?" she sputtered, her incredulity shifting through her features, her shoulders tensing as she blinked several times…and was she seriously blushing a little too? No, she was just pissed off, that had to be it. Earl of all people couldn't make her blush. "I've never even come CLOSE to screwing Buffy, who the hell is the liar now?"

"I didn't say you had sex with Buffy, Faith," Earl pointed out patiently, shaking his head. "You didn't have sex with that young man either, as I recall. What I mean-"

"Yeah, no thanks to you," Faith muttered with some resentment, and Earl ignored her, continuing as if she hadn't spoken.

"What I mean, Faith, is that you behave in a sexual or seductive manner to put people off balance and make yourself feel like you got yourself some control. It ain't about sex for you so much as control. Is it?"

"What?" Faith blinked, startled. Yet…she could feel herself tensing, growing instinctively defensive, as though something in his words had hit close to the bone, even if she didn't yet completely get what he was saying. "Just how often have you watched me have sex anyway? Isn't that against God's rules or something?"

"I'm not just talking about having sex, Faith," Earl replied patiently, his eyes holding hers, gentle but somehow intent enough that she swallowed unconsciously, unable to bring herself to look away. "I'm talking about the behavior, the attitude, the implications of your sexuality that you shove towards people to shake them off track if you don't think lying or running is gonna cut it. I'm talking about how you use your sexuality to keep everyone at a distance emotionally instead of being able to come closer."

He dropped his voice, and it was the softness, the gentle caring in his eyes and tone that made Faith shiver in spite of herself, her heart racing.

"You are a beautiful girl, Faith, and I ain't talking about your pretty face. There ain't no good reason you need to use your body and what it's capable of doing to block yourself from having real affection or a real relationship with everyone from potential friends to potential boyfriends."

Why was her stomach sinking, doing slow flips in its heavy descent down her torso? Why was her heart knocking in her chest so heavily, her mind suddenly thick and clogged with barely discernible thought and feeling?

She tore her eyes away fast, clearing her throat, and took in a slow breath…but her heartbeat wasn't slowing, her breathing uneven and fast, and thoughts were coming too fast and intense to push aside.

"Shh…it only hurts for a second…"

"You like it, don't you? You're loving this…I knew you would…"

"She won't care…she won't believe you anyway…"

"You tell your mama and I kill her."

"You tell your mama, and I kill you…"

Faith's breathing was coming fast, her chest rising and falling in shallow heaves, and she turned her face away so she could close her eyes, forcing all thoughts and vivid images rising in her mind away from herself. She tightened her jaw again as she told herself repeatedly to calm down, shut up… push it all away, lock it up tight inside, where she would never think or remember again. Not now…not ever….no.

She wasn't ever going back there again, not even in her head. It was over. And anyway, that had been so long ago it didn't matter anymore.

It didn't matter.

But she could feel Earl watching her…she could feel his eyes on her, heard him take a step towards her, one hand very gently resting on her shoulder before taking it away. And she heard the softness of his voice when he spoke, in a tone so different from any she was used to hearing addressing her that something inside her shivered, almost cracking apart.

"It wasn't your fault, Faith."

He didn't specify what he was talking about. He didn't have to. Faith didn't have to ask. She didn't even have to look at him to know that he knew.

She swallowed, trying to force the familiar anger back on herself, to feel it surging through her veins, but it wouldn't come, and she shook her head slowly, speaking in a voice so dry and hoarse she barely recognized it to be her own.

"Get out of my head, Earl."

"We won't be working on that today," Earl said quietly, still standing close, though no longer touching her. Somehow, though, his proximity did not alarm her or anger her, as it usually might. Somehow, she almost wanted it…somehow it almost felt safe. "We won't touch on that until you're ready. But before we back off from that, I'm just gonna tell you one more time, and you remember, Faith, your angel doesn't lie."

He touched her shoulder again, giving it a gentle squeeze, and said to her profile, "It was never your fault."

Faith couldn't find words to respond. She wanted to give a sarcastic reply, to show with her gestures, tone, and expression that he didn't affect her, that nothing ever affected her at all. She wanted to roll her eyes at his words and push them aside just like she could with everything else, to just have them no longer matter. She didn't want anything at all to matter.

But she couldn't do it. She couldn't make Earl's words nothing, so she could only stand frozen as his tone lightened and he took his hand away.

"What we ARE gonna do tomorrow is work on you getting fixed up with relationships that are centered on being genuine rather than you using your body or sex or some kind of sexual joke to keep it all away and distract people from the real you. I'd ask you how that sounds, but I've seen enough middle fingers to literally last me an eternity, and besides, it ain't like I'm giving you a choice now, is it?"

This was something new to focus on, and Faith grabbed onto it gratefully, turning for the first time to face him.

"Maybe the REAL me really is just a walking, talking, smoking hot sex machine, ever consider that?"

"Nope," Earl said easily, "but maybe you oughtta consider being more careful with your words, since you still ain't allowed to lie."

Faith rolled her eyes, exhaling, and crossed her arms before leveling Earl with a resigned stare that was more of an attempt to get herself back to normal than genuine. She'd kill him if he called her on it, though.

"Whatever. What is it I can't do this time?"

"You're a smart girl, you'll figure it out," he chuckled, and Faith's eyes narrowed with suspicion at the smirk playing at his lips. "But for starters, no casual sex, no using your body or sexual innuendo to keep others from coming too close. For you, I think that's enough to worry about at the moment, 'cause that right there's gonna be hard enough."

"And if I don't?" she said suspiciously, and Earl's deepened smirk in response only confirmed that she was definitely in for it tomorrow.

"You don't gotta worry about seeing if you just don't do it, now, do you?"

"Just kill me now," Faith muttered, shaking her head.

Earl laughed, smiling broadly as he took a few steps towards her.

"We just got started, girl, where's that Slayer endurance? Time for me to get going…see you tomorrow, Faith."

He wrapped his arms around her then, and then Faith was falling all over again, dropping into space at rapid speed. When she opened her eyes, reaching out instinctively to catch herself, she was standing in the kitchen area of Cordelia's pool house, and Earl was gone. Faith stumbled towards her table, sinking down into the closest chair with a loud sigh.

Damn.


	16. 16

Note: Thanks again for Ltlconf for all your help, particularly with upcoming chapters.

As was usual for a typical evening, Jim's Pool Hall was crowded with people in its small interior, all sharing despite any other seeming differences the need to escape the context of their lives and feelings in the bar's seedy atmosphere. Country music played loudly from the old-fashioned jukebox in the corner- an unexpected choice for a California bar, but the irony was clearly lost on its inhabitants. Several were nodding enthusiastically to the beat and some even made noises that could approximate singing, though it certainly wasn't music.

The bar's customers shouted and swaggered and staggered, pounding each other on the back and getting in each other's faces as they talked, and once in a while short scuffles broke out against the walls. Men sloppily kissed giggling girls in low tops and heavy makeup, their hands sliding over shorts that barely covered backsides and jeans that looked painted on, as games of pool, darts, and poker carried on noisily all around. The smoke from cigars and cigarettes was so thick it had formed a visible fog, and if a person was not smoking when he arrived, he might as well have been by the time he left.

This was a bar that looked the other way, if not straight down into the prominent young cleavage, if the underage strolled inside, and Faith had taken advantage of this on several occasions. This was a bar that Rupert Giles would normally avoid completely, furrowing his brow with disgust or embarrassment at many of its on-goings.

But that night, Faith was settling in at her new home, and it was Giles who sat slumped at the bar of Jim's Pool Hall, his sixth bottle of scotch in his hand, so lost to his own dark and self-despairing thoughts that his surroundings barely even registered in his mind.

Just one drink, he had thought hours after he had left the high school library, his mind still reeling from the confrontation, from realizations hitting him on all sides, realizations that had never even occurred to him as possibilities, though they well should have. One drink outside of my own home, in an environment conducive to helping a person forget his sense of self, and perhaps he would be able to settle, to resume a more reasonable line of thought and emotional mindset once more.

But one drink had become five, his sixth was in his hand, and Giles felt no better now than he had when he had first entered the bar. If anything, he felt worse, for his head now throbbed vaguely but steadily, and his eyes felt hot, yet somehow dry. And though his thoughts may have slowed, they had certainly not come close to stopping.

He kept picturing Buffy's face, flushed and vivid with indignation, her features strained with disappointment as well as ire as she looked him in the eye, as if she believed that he had once more, through his failure with Faith, failed her as well. Undoubtedly he was right…if he could not properly look after one Slayer, how was it possible that he could have looked after two, even if with one, he had done his ultimately ineffective best?

For he had done his best to care for Buffy, to guide and train and support her to the best of his judgment and ability. He had too often failed, his actions or inactions rendering his efforts ineffective, or even at times damaging, but with Buffy, Giles had done his best to do right for her, not just as a job, but for Buffy, the girl herself.

He could not say the same for Faith. He could not say that at all, and it was this realization that drove him here, his head bowed, self-criticism bitterly eating away at his mind and heart.

Repeatedly Faith's face intruded upon his mind's eyes, so he was forced to see the embarrassment staining her cheeks, the heated emotion in her eyes, the rage coloring her tone and expression as she spat back at him the truth of what he- what none of them- had even noticed, what they had never done that should have been a natural and immediate priority…simply to ensure that a human being in their midst was safe and well. It was his job by extension as a Watcher to help to protect- and he had not seen when a youth under his very nose was in need.

He saw in hindsight not only the anger dominating Faith's demeanor, but also the hurt beneath, the hurt that he had never noticed before in any of their encounters…hurt that now, as clearly as he saw it in the visualizations of the girl's face, he could not believe had not been stark and obvious to his view before. He heard it in her voice when she demanded they account to her why they had a right to try to care for her now when they never had before, and Giles swallowed, his grip on the scotch bottle tightening.

He had no right. She was correct…what right did he have to tell her anything now, after he so long had turned his gaze away?

Several times, Giles knew, he had failed Buffy. In what he said or didn't say, what he did or didn't do, he had come short of the expectations she held for him…the expectations he held for himself. But each time he had failed Buffy, he had been well aware of it. Buffy had made sure of that. And each time, Giles had done what he could to earn back her trust and respect in him. He was still in the process of doing so now, after his spectacular failure of her with his initial compliance in her Cruciamentum.

He had known each and every time he had failed Buffy, and then, he had strived to correct it.

But with Faith, he had failed her from the moment he met her and never even realized it...and Faith had never let him know. Perhaps she hadn't fully realized it herself, or had expected no better from him or anyone else…and that was as much of an outrage as any of it.

She could have talked to me, Giles tried to tell himself, his hand tightening on the scotch bottle to the point that it would have long ago shattered, if in the hands of one of the Slayers. She could have taken an initiative, spoke up, told me the truth of her life. If I had known, I would have done something. Faith's situation…it was her fault as much as anyone's…as much as mine.

He tried to tell himself this, tried to use this logic to shift away some of the guilt and self-loathing resting so heavily about his heart. But even as he thought it, Giles could not believe. Could he really have been so blind, so ignorant, without some of it having been self-perpetuated, without willingly choosing to believe whatever Faith had attempted to pass off as truth? Had he truly been open enough and made himself available enough for her to have felt comfortable approaching him with a matter so sensitive and serious? If she had, would he have even been listening closely enough to comprehend and respond appropriately to what she was trying to say?

When he was Faith's age, if he were in her place, would Giles himself have truly ever dreamed of reaching out or asking for help, especially from someone like his current self?

No. No, of course he wouldn't have. And he could not have expected Faith to. That responsibility had been his, and he had not even recognized it as his own.

Seventeen…seventeen, a child, in his charge…and only recently seventeen, she had said. She had been sixteen before, the same age as Buffy when Buffy had entered his care, and god knew how young and naïve Buffy had been, how much the child, at sixteen years old, though that had been just two years before. And Faith, when Giles had first set eyes on her, had been only sixteen as well.

A child. A child, who had come to him for care and guidance…a child who was an orphan both by her mother and by the Watcher she had witnessed murdered, a child with a clearly unstable background, who no doubt carried scars beyond the physical. A sixteen-year-old child with no money, food, or clothing beyond the bare minimum, who was in danger of death every time she lay down at night to sleep.

And Giles had had no idea. He had been oblivious, probably intentionally at least in part. He had never asked, because he had not wanted to know.

Why? How could he simply choose to ignore a child who was in need, a child under his guardianship? Because he was busy? Because he was unhappy? Because she behaved with such seeming confidence, because she seemed not obviously traumatized or upset or ill? Because her impulsive behavior, revealing manner of dress, and suggestive comments made her seem as though she were older than she was, uninterested in others' opinions, and certain of her place in the world? Because she made him uncomfortable?

Had he not behaved in a similar manner in his youth? Had he not felt that he had no other choice? What made him blind to the possibility that Faith too may not merely exist on a literal level?

Yes, there had been much turmoil and grief in the past year. Jenny's death still seemed so fresh and raw at times that Giles felt as thoug he could not breathe with the memory of her smile, the sound of her voice, the sparkle in her dark eyes as her fingers trailed across his skin. Yes, he slept little and existed on five cups of tea and coffee each morning, or he could not begin his day and function at a near normal level. Yes, Buffy had disappeared all summer and returned with chaotic results, heightening Giles's stress and worry level towards her considerably; yes, Angel's return, Buffy's re-coupling with him, and all the emotion this brought, barely held below the surface, every time Giles saw Angel's face or so much as took Buffy's hand came to surface, was another very distracting factor. But none of this, NONE of it, was any excuse for his neglect to take any sort of interest or responsibility for Faith Lehane, who had had nothing to do with any of it.

She had been his responsibility, whether she wanted it or not, volunteered facts or not. Because of his inertia and lack of interest, she could have been lost in a serious manner, in more ways than one. She could have become ill from her lack of proper diet, from unprotected…ongoings…with much older men. She could have become involved in drugs or heavy drinking, or even been drawn to evil, from despair at the lack of notice others took in her life. She could have been killed in her sleep by vampires or even simple humans, by anyone able to break into the shoddy motel room where a teenage girl slept alone each night. There were countless ways she could have been injured, killed, or damaged beyond anything anyone could do to help, all because no one had bothered to ask the right questions. No one had asked any questions at all.

It had taken another child to point this out to him- well, almost a child, at any rate, for at barely eighteen, it was still difficult for Giles to think of Buffy as a young woman at times. It had taken someone barely stepping beyond childhood herself, someone often self-absorbed and rivalrous in her thinking and behavior towards others, no less, to open his eyes. And even worse, it had been another child, even more fully fixated in her thoughts on her own self, to offer Faith shelter and stability.

Cordelia, of all people, had taken a greater responsibility than Giles. And she had done so without anyone so much as asking her to do it.

He had not just failed as a Watcher. He had failed as a human…as a man.

As his seventh scotch arrived, Giles clinched it tightly in his fist for several moments before bolting it down with a few convulsive swallows, then let the bottle heavily return to the counter, pressing his hand to throbbing temples. He slowly lifted his head with an audible sigh, bleary eyes staring ahead without really seeing anything that was before him.

"I have failed," he said out loud, and the words were surprisingly calm, a statement of fact. "I have failed."

"Rough night?" rumbled a male voice nearby, and Giles quickly turned his head, blinking with some surprise at the addressal.

There was a man sitting on the barstool next to him; Giles had not noticed him there before, nor had he saw him approach. He was about Giles's age, perhaps a little older, with gray hair almost to his shoulders and an easygoing posture and expression. He was dressed in dirty jeans and a gray button up jacket, and he nursed a beer in one hand, looking at Giles with casual interest as he took a swallow.

When Giles grunted a nonverbal response of affirmation, his eyes shifting away as his vision blurred, then cleared, the man chuckled, shaking his head.

"That bad, huh? Women, work, or other woes?"

Giles gave a short laugh, bitterness and disgust more than amusement in the sound, and shook his head faintly as he replied, flinching at the sharp stab of pain that ran between his eyes as a result.

"All three, actually…actually, NO, no, that…incorrect assumption…that is, that is where it started. She is not…she is NOT a woman, she is a CHILD, and that, THAT is the, the crux of it!" he stumbled, aware but not entirely processing the slur of his voice and the dramatic gestures his right arm used to accompany it.

The man beside him seemed unfazed, however. He merely inched away from Giles's outstretched arm, continuing to smile in a friendly but not overly intrusive fashion.

"The crux of it, huh? Sounds downright complicated. I'm Earl," he said, taking Giles's still stretched hand and shaking it briefly but firmly. When he released it, he also set Giles's hand deftly back onto the bar. "You got a name?"

"SHE calls me G-Man," Giles muttered, looking down at the hand now on the bar as if not certain how it had gotten there, and Earl laughed.

"Well, beats some names girls give their lovers, I suppose. But if she's really a child in the literal sense, well, you know, guess it ain't my business- but the age of consent in California is eighteen, ain't it?"

At that statement, and the implication of Earl's assumption of the situation, Giles's eyes bulged behind his glasses, his jaw dropping, muscles tensing with both shock and horror. But then the absurdity of the other man's statement versus the reality of the situation, and possibly the rapidly settling effects of the alcohol, hit him, and he burst out laughing.

"Age of- no, no, oh bloody hell, no…"

He laughed until his stomach flipped, until tears came to his eyes, and all the while Earl watched him calmly, a faint smile curving his lips, simply waiting for him to stop. Eventually a new thought came to Giles, one that deadened his hilarity immediately. If the California age of consent was 18, then not one but both his Slayers had certainly flouted it- with his full knowledge and lack of action. How had this not occurred to him before? Could he be jailed for this? Could be be held…what was the word…negligee-able…

"Eighteen…the age of consent is…bloody hell, I belong in a cell," Giles muttered, head dropping, shoulders slumping, and Earl raised an eyebrow.

"Why's that?"

"I may not have…engaged in, in…I never touched her," Giles mumbled, then lifted his head, adding more emphatically, "I never would have, regardless of her age, even if she is…well, but, it was my responsibility to know, and, and to ask, but she looked older. She looked older, and…she looked…"

He trailed off, exhaling, and taking a long swallow from the bottle in his hand. Earl frowned slightly, but there was something strange in his eyes, something knowing, that Giles did not see.

"Didn't know her age, but she looked older? You sure you ain't sleeping with this girl?"

"No!" Giles snapped, his head jerking up, a little too loud and horrified even for the noisy atmosphere of the bar, and when a few glanced over, he lowered his voice but continued emphatically. "No, I, I never…but I failed her in, I just, she could have died. She could have DIED."

He took another long pull from his drink before turning back to Earl, swallowing noisily, his vision doubling for a longer moment now before clearing slightly. Earl regarded him neutrally for a few seconds before speaking.

"She safe now? The child, I mean. Is she somewhere safe?"

Giles blinked, caught off guard, and his eyes shifted slowly as he frowned, trying to concentrate.

"What? Well, yes…I mean, I suppose…"

"Do you know where she is?" Earl pressed patiently, and Giles struggled to come to a conclusion.

"She should…well, I, I'm not with her now, so I don't-"

"Does she have a safe place to stay at for tonight?" Earl clarified further, and Giles, finally seizing upon an answer he had in his possession, nodded hurriedly.

"Yes…yes, she, she's got…well, the-"

"Then you got time to make things right later, long as she's safe tonight," Earl concluded, resting his elbows on the bar and rolling one shoulder lazily before turning his head back to Giles. "This girl, if you don't' mind me asking…she yours? Your daughter?"

"Oh, good heavens, no," Giles sputtered, half laughing, half horrified, eyes widening as he shook his head so rapidly his vision spun, his head stabbing with sudden dizzying pain. "Thank God!" Then, with sudden guilt, he lifted his head sloppily and added, "I mean- well, I didn't mean-"

"Even better," Earl interrupted, tactfully stopping his stuttering midway. "She ain't your daughter, she's already probably got lower expectations of the kind of things you owe her. You think you did wrong by her, and she ain't your child, all you gotta do now is decide to make it right and go through with it."

Giles nodded distractedly, muttering his agreement even before the obvious problem occurred. "Make it right…yes, make it…how?" he asked with sudden clarity, sitting up almost straight as he finished off the last of the bottle in two more swallows before looking back over at Earl, blinking frequently in an attempt to clear his still blurry vision.

Earl shrugged, finishing off the beer in his hand, and leaned casually against the counter. "Be what she needs. She needs food, shelter, money, protection, advice, whatever it might be, give it to her. Be the sort of man a girl needs at, how old did you say she was, 17? But whatever you do, don't pity her, and don't cut her slack just 'cause you feel guilty. Girl like that, feels betrayed, I'd think she'd take you out for a spin just 'cause you let her if you go too nice on her. Not to mention she ain't gonna like feeling like she's your personal pity party. Be what you think she needs, but most of all, just be you, not some idea of what an adult figure's supposed to be. You do that, can't get any worse, can it? I'd say things will probably get a hell of a lot better."

Still frowning slightly, Giles nodded to himself again, murmuring with unfocused eyes.

"Yes…yes, I, I'll do that…I'll dot at tonight. Right now…right…"

He started to swing his leg over the bar stool and slide down to the floor, intending to walk out to his car and directly to Faith, wherever she might be, right in that moment. But his balance faltered, temples throbbing, and his knees buckled, almost causing him to collapse. Even as his eyes half closed Giles was dimly aware of a soft chuckle and a voice muttering, "Easy there, Rupert," before catching him and keeping him upright. He had no time to ponder at the fact that he had never told Earl his name, nor that it seemed as though time had suddenly stood still.

When Giles had never opened his eyes, he was lying in his bed at home, an intense headache spiking between his eyes, and he had no memory of how had gotten home. Nor, when he went to check the garage later, did he understand how his car had come to be there too.

What he did remember was talking to a stranger, though he couldn't' remember the words or picture his face. What he did remember and continue to feel was a conviction to help Faith now, to attempt to make right his lack of responsibility and outright neglect. Even before his first cup of coffee, with a painful headache and the sun not yet risen, Giles's mind was at work, trying to set forth a plan for her future. What was important was she would have one- she and Buffy both.


	17. 17

When Faith awakened the following morning, it took her several moments to realize where she was. The pillow beneath her head was too soft, the mattress beneath her form too firm and comfortable, for what she was used to. Even the blankets were wrong- thicker, softer against her skin, not the cheap, scratchy material she had become accustomed to.

It didn't feel like her motel bed at all, and when she first thought as much, that was when she remembered. She wasn't in the motel- she had just passed her first night at Cordelia's pool house.

Faith had skipped patrol the night before, or even going out at all; after the craziness of her day, she had been mentally too tired to really want to, an exceedingly rare occurrence for her. Generally by the end of the day she was restless, ready to get rid of any hurt or frustration the day had brought by throwing herself into activity in the night. But last night after Earl had left, she hadn't really had the desire to. Now that she thought about it, that was probably somehow his doings. Instead, she had explored the pool area of Cordelia's place and walked around the house- if you could call it that- taking in its surroundings and wondering idly which of the windows belonged to Cordelia's bedroom and what it might look like inside. Faith couldn't even imagine what a girl rich enough to have a house like this might have inside her bedroom. A bed made of diamonds? A TV the length of a wall? A concert stage?

In her unfamiliarly comfortable bed the following morning, Faith sat up slowly and stretched, relishing the pull of her muscles with the movement. A glance at the digital clock on her nightstand informed her that it was still early, not quite seven am. She didn't remember when it was that she had fallen asleep, but waking now, she couldn't remember when the last time had been that she had slept so hard and well. There was something to be said about having a decent bed for that kind of thing.

As Faith headed into the bathroom and began to take care of her morning needs, she continued, despite herself, to remain in constant appreciation of how well and easily everything she touched worked for her. The toilet didn't need the handle jiggled to flush properly, the sink's water wasn't tinged brown for the first five seconds when she went to wash her hands, and the hot water in the shower actually stayed hot, the shower nozzle's pressure steady, for the entire length of her shower. The shampoo and soap were the real kind, not the slimy cheap crap from mini bottles at the motel, and Faith felt her muscles relax to almost melting under the spray as she worked the lather into her scalp. Overall, she felt damn good.

Finally exiting the shower a good half hour later, she pulled on her jeans from the day before, along with a black tank; it wasn't until then, choosing from her limited wardrobe, that she remembered Earl, and that this was not only another day of fire-ass, but also of some secret punishment Earl hadn't bothered to describe. Damn him…if he wasn't going to let her lie for the rest of her life, dead already or not, she was going to have to find some way to kill him.

Still, it was hard to be in a bad mood when she felt so good. Good night's sleep and a warm shower could do a lot to make a day seem alright.

You just bring it on, Earl, she thought to herself as she stepped into the kitchen area, her still-damp hair straggling down her back and dripping down her shirt. You just bring it. I'll knock you straight outta the ballpark. Wouldn't be surprised if Cordy actually had one somewhere around here.

Opening her pantry, Faith extracted two packages of Pop-Tarts and then stepped outside the front door of the pool house, opening one and beginning to eat as she walked barefoot towards the pool's large surface. Even this early, and fully clothed, the water looked cool and inviting. As Faith stood near the edge, eating her Pop-Tarts and looking out into the water, she splashed her bare toes into its surface, flicking the water back and forth idly.

"If you jump in with those filthy clothes on that you've been wearing like three times this week, you're cleaning the entire pool by yourself," announced a snarky voice behind her, and Faith took her time to extract her foot from the water and turn around, knowing without needing to see that it would belong to Cordelia.

The other girl was standing several feet behind her, just inside the pool area's white picket fence, her arms crossed, perfectly plucked eyebrows raised in apparent boredom and cynicism as her eyes quickly scanned Faith's form. Her height was accentuated by the three inch heels, paired with the short, light blue dress she was wearing, and her purse, which was certainly expensive and designer in brand, perfectly matched her ensemble.

For a split second Faith grinned to herself mischievously, imagining throwing Cordelia over her shoulder and tossing her and her perfect little outfit into the pool and enjoying the spectacle of her rage and horror as she clawed, sputtering, to the surface. But she somewhat reluctantly pushed the idea aside. After all, it was because of Cordelia that she was even standing here, and as far as she knew, Cordy hadn't even told anyone about the ass on fire incident from the day before.

What Faith was completely lost on, for either of those things, was why in the world Cordy had done them.

In response to Cordelia's remark now, she smirked as she turned to face her, finishing off the last of her Pop-Tarts with a shrug and stuffing the wrappers in her pocket.

"You rather I skinny dip, Queen C?"

"What, you can't figure out how to work a shower?" Cordelia shot back, rolling her eyes and shifting her weight onto one hip. "Looks like it if that hair of yours is any indication to go by. See, what you do, Faith, is turn that silver sticky-out thing in the tub, and then you go stand under it. If you're really feeling daring, you can even use those things in the bottles called shampoo, and that little white bar called soap."

"Yeah? Sounds complicated…think I need a demonstration, Cor," Faith snickered, taking a few deliberately staggering steps towards her and making a beckoning gesture. "You offering to assist me?"

She hadn't noticed at first, with her first insinuative comment to Cordelia, but this second time, Faith caught it when her eyes briefly shifted down…and it was enough for her to stop cold, her breathing nearly ceasing entirely. What the hell…what the FUCK?

Her breasts were gone. Not hurt, or damaged, or anything semi logical like that…they were just gone. The swell they had created in her tank top, the cleavage that had been displayed, was entirely absent…her tank hang loosely, because Faith was now as flat-chested and childish in her figure as a little girl.

No way…no fucking way, Earl could not DO this! It was one thing to set her ass on fire, but he couldn't just start taking body parts away- especially THOSE parts! That was mutilation- that was- he hadn't actually REMOVED her ass before or burned it, so this, this was a billion times worse, this was- he could not just take her boobs away, for fuck's sake!

Disbelieving, Faith skimmed her hands over her chest, hoping that she was somehow mistaken, that what she had seen was only some strange optical illusion. But no- her hands smoothed over a chest so flat and angular it was practically concave. Through her now very baggy shirt she felt no wounds or scars on her skin, as if Earl had ripped her breasts away by force, nor did she feel any pain. It was simply as though her breasts had never existed.

Adrenaline rushing through her veins, her mouth going dry with near panic, Faith continued to feel around her chest, then even her sides and back, half praying to somehow reconjure her breasts up merely by touch. Her hands moved faster and more roughly, almost pinching herself with her grasping, but still, her breasts remained mysteriously absent.

Shit! What was she supposed to do to get them back? This wasn't like telling a lie, where she could just tell the truth to undo it! How do you undo acting sexual? And what the hell was Cordelia going to think, between her catching on fire yesterday and losing her breasts today?

But amazingly, Cordelia didn't seem to notice anything unusual about Faith's appearance at all. In fact, she was rolling her eyes in disgust, her arms crossed impatiently, talking in her normal snippy manner in reply to Faith's earlier innuendo as if nothing at all had changed. It was like she was barely even looking at Faith to see…or maybe, she just COULDN'T see.

"PLEASE, the only thing I want to assist YOU with is pulling that disgusting brain of yours out of your head through your ears and scrubbing it with OxyClean. If you even HAVE enough of a brain up there for it to be worth the effort, which I have my doubts about…Faith, what the hell are you doing, and can you get a ROOM for that kind of thing?"

Cordelia was gawking at Faith with disgusting, wrinkling her nose and brow and taking a step away from her, staring at Faith's hands, which were still running with increasing speed and anxiety over her chest, pressing down and squeezing in what undoubtedly looked like a sexy self-massage. But if Cordelia could focus in on what her hands were doing, shouldn't she be able to see what they were doing it TO- namely, her totally evaporated non-boobs?

"Nothing!" Faith blurted, both anger and reluctant embarrassment coloring her tone and giving her voice a snappy edge.

With slightly reddened cheeks she forced herself to cross her arms, hoping to hide her chest, or lack thereof, from the other girls' view as she thought desperately, trying to decide what to do. Stuff a bra? But then if Cordelia could see too what was wrong, why wasn't she saying something, or even just looking at her chest funny rather than her hands? Was she that oblivious?

Or was Faith's lack of a chest only visible, somehow, to Faith herself?

That would be so fucking like Earl, to give her a private torture she couldn't react to in front of people…that had to be it. How the hell was she supposed to act or feel sexy when in her own mind, she looked like a damn little girl?

Damn him…he was a sneaky bastard, she had to give him that. But she wanted her freaking boobs back!

"Nothing?" Cordelia repeated skeptically, eyebrows arching higher, leaning most of her weight into one hip as she continued to stare Faith down. "Just like your ass catching on fire for absolutely no reason yesterday was nothing?"

"Yeah, like that, NOTHING, I'm just a raging horny nympho, is all, so you better watch out, Cor, or-" Faith started to snap back- but that was hardly the right words to choose to get Cordelia off her back, because the words had barely escaped her mouth before her pants burst into flames.

She had felt her pants begin to heat threateningly when she told Cordelia nothing was going on, but she had been too distracted about her breasts' absence to really register the meaning properly and be able to act preventively. Now with her second lie, her pants were blazing, and if Faith told one more lie today, she would be walking around apparently pants-less, because this had been her second to last pair left.

DAMN that stupid angel!

"Fuck!" she yelled with feeling, slamming her fist into her thigh, and desperately wracked her brain for the lies she now needed to correct.

But Cordelia, of course, saw only Faith with her pants on fire, Faith who was apparently paralyzed with shock. And Cordelia, eyes wide with horror, acted accordingly to attempt to rectify the situation.

Rushing forward, she gave Faith a hard shove to her shoulders so that Faith, caught off balance, stumbled back, falling into the pool behind her with a loud splash.

The weight of her clothes pulling her down, Faith had to fight, stunned, choking, to bring her head back above the water's surface. Gasping, coughing, and spitting out a stream of water she had taken into her open mouth and up her nose, she attempted to make her way over to the side of the pool with her sodden jeans making it difficult, as they now seemed to weigh as much as she did. Cordelia stood nervously a distance back from the pool, her nails biting into the palms of her hands. As Faith clinched her jaw, strands of soggy hair strewn over her face, both came to the realization that even in the water, Faith's backside was nevertheless producing an undiminishing flame.

"Oh my god," Cordelia gasped, her face so white and horror-stricken Faith half expected her to crumple onto the pool's patio. "I'll call 911- no, I'll call Giles- Buffy- I'll, you just stay in the water, and I'll-"

"No!" Faith nearly screamed, and when Cordelia halted mid-step, her eyes darting back to her, Faith managed, between continual coughing, to draw enough breath to amend her lie. "I-I'm not horny, now, anyway, I'm n-not a nympho, technically, YES, s-something's wrong, but I'm NOT telling you, FUCK, you can STOP now!" she choked, clinging to the side of the pool, and as soon as her words were finished, so were the flames. As she held onto the side of the pool, her coughing tapering, she noticed with bitter gratitude that her breasts had suddenly returned as well. About fucking time.

But if Faith was somewhat gratified, Cordelia was far from it. Her eyes still bulging in prolonged astonishment, she stared at Faith was unswerving incredulity, her voice a little higher than usual as her questions tumbled forth.

"What the HELL was that? Are you okay- I mean- what the hell WAS that, what is going on?"

Faith pushed off the side of the pool, pulling herself up onto the concrete, and got to her feet as quickly and with as much dignity as was possible- which, given that she was leaving a wide pool of water in her wake, had hair draped over her eyes, and was likely exposing her ass to any who might pass by, was not a whole lot. Raking her hand through her hair to shove the soaked mass back from her face, Faith began to stride towards the pool house, careful to keep both her face and her ass as much out of Cordelia's view as was possible.

"Later, Cor," she muttered, reaching for the doorknob with a hand that was, to her disgust, shaking slightly. "Gotta change. Aren't you gonna be late for school if you don't get a move on?"

Cordelia, however, was not so easily put off. Continuing to stare at Faith, then taking several almost aggressive steps towards her, she did not allow for the conversation to end as Faith had hoped for.

"You have to CHANGE? This is the second day in a row your ass caught FIRE! And this time even half drowning you didn't make it go out for a good minute or two! Either you've got the scariest gastrointestinal disorder on the planet or something freaky as hell is going on with you, and don't tell me it's NOTHING, people don't suddenly shoot flames out their ass for no reason, even in Sunnydale! Faith, what the hell is going on?" Cordelia demanded, even going so far and coming so close to her as to reach out and seize Faith's arm- the first time Faith could remember her voluntarily touching her.

It would have been easy to simply shrug Cordy off. It would be easy to go into the pool house, lock the door, change into her last remaining pair of pants, and refuse to look at her for the rest of the day, let alone answer her. But Cordelia was right here, her warm hand tightening around the chilled, damp skin of Faith's arm, less than four inches away. And though Faith was trying not to meet her eyes, she could see Cordelia from her profile, the irritation and demand in her expression…but also what Faith thought sort of looked like worry, or concern.

Damn…if Cordelia Chase was worried about her, she knew she was in deep shit.

She saw all this, and she couldn't bring herself to shove her away, at least not like she'd wanted to. And she was staying at the girl's place, after all, without even having asked to. Which probably meant she owed her, at least to put up with her more than usual.

But that didn't mean Faith was going to tell her she had a freaking angel, an angel that set her ass on fire and took away her tits when he thought she was being naughty. That was just going too far…and what if Cordelia actually believed her? What she might do with that information was probably worse than her thinking Faith was a psycho.

"I can't tell you, Cor," she said softly, in a more gentle and subdued tone than she had ever used with her before, nearly even meeting her eyes full on. "Sorry. But I'm alright, okay? You can see as much as I can it isn't hurting me. It's under control. So don't tell Giles, or Wesley, and for god's sake, don't tell Buffy. Alright?"

For several moments Cordelia regarded her with narrowed eyes, seemingly assessing her. Finally she removed her hand from her, taking a step back, and rolled her eyes, adjusting her backpack on her shoulders.

"Yeah, looks like you had it under control the way you were standing there with flames shooting out your ass…look, I'm going to be late, and some of us who aren't expert truants try not to be. So if you're not going to be concerned about your flaming ass, I guess that's your own problem. But if you set my house on fire and you're not already dead, you owe me, oh, about 12 million dollars, or being my personal servant and slave for the rest of your probably very short existence," Cordelia muttered, shaking her head.

As she started to heard towards the pool's exit gate, she stopped first, turning and pointing a finger in Faith's direction. "You know you're cleaning the pool right? And anything else you're sporadically burning ass comes in contact with."

But even with those words, Faith was sure she had seen the worry more plain than ever in her eyes, just there at surface. And as Cordelia had left, she had glanced once more behind.

Opening her door with a jerky motion, Faith padded into her bedroom and began to change, kicking her ruined pants beneath her bed before flopping onto its surface on her back. If she didn't get that allowance from Wesley soon, she might actually have to resort to wearing a dress, and that thought was every bit was wrong as anything she could ever share with Cordelia.

But how long could she keep this up…how long until she was forced to tell the truth about Earl to someone? And what if that was what Earl was trying to make her do in the first place?


	18. 18

Chapter 18

Less than an hour had gone by, and Faith had dried herself off, brushed her teeth and hair, applied makeup, and was in the process of deciding where to go once she headed out the door when she heard someone knocking on it first. For a few moments she stilled, her mind flitting through lists of possibilities of who could have come to see her. With Cordelia having presumably left for school long ago, it seemed that the only possibility was someone who lived at her house and had access to the pool house- in other words, one of her servants, or worse, one of her parents.

Oh shit…what if someone had seen the burning pants incident and finally ventured out to investigate? Or what if they had come to clean it out, what with the pool guy having been fired, and saw Faith there with all her stuff spread around the bedroom and bathroom? They would have a key, it wasn't like she could just not answer. Shit, what if they kicked her out after less than one day?

Thinking about that possibility, Faith suddenly and with some unease realized how much she was relying on Cordelia's pool house already as being available for her use. She knew she shouldn't get attached to the idea of being able to stay there. After all, it wasn't a permanent thing by any means. If Cordy or her parents didn't get fed up with her before fall and kick her out, there was still the fact that Cordelia would be graduating before long and going off- and so would Buffy and all her friends. What was Faith supposed to do then? Stick around Sunnydale in Cordy's pool house doing the solo Slayer thing for the rest of her life?

It was best not to like too much wherever she was, because inevitably she knew she would have to move on. But after only one night, without even having a chance to stash some of the stuff from the pantry to take with her? That would suck beyond all sucking. And then where would she go- Giles's, Buffy's? WESLEY'S? Shit!

Quickly making her way towards the door, Faith squinted into its peephole- and was surprised to see Giles, of all people, standing before it. Well, that beat one of Cordy's parents, anyway…but Giles? How did he even know where Cordy's pool house was- and WHY would he be there?

"Whatever," Faith muttered, to herself more than anything, but she opened the door, taking a step backward from the entrance without quite allowing space for Giles to come inside. "Hey, G," she said a little guardedly, one hand on the door frame. "What's up?"

Something seemed different about Giles, when she looked him over- something she couldn't quite put her finger on. He looked somewhat tired, with shadows under his eyes, but he was dressed as neatly and stuffily as ever, in a suit and tie. But it wasn't his appearance that had changed, so much as his demeanor. As he looked back at her, something in Giles's posture and expression was more quietly confident…more PRESENT…than she was used to, and Faith felt her brow furrow as she looked him over again, wondering if it was just her imagination at work.

"Good morning, Faith," Giles nodded, making no move towards entering or insinuating a desire to enter the building. "It appears you have already prepared for the day even without an advance warning. Are you ready, then?"

Faith blinked, thrown. He was acting like she knew exactly what he was talking about…problem was, she totally didn't.

"Uh, what?" she asked blankly. "Ready for what? We have some kind of hot date I don't know about, because if you had kept me informed, I would've dressed much hotter for the part."

As soon as the words left her mouth she could see it out the corner of her eye- her breasts were gone again, her newly changed t-shirt now bagging loosely on her frame. SHIT! How uptight was Earl anyway about the stupid sex stuff?It was ONE comment, just a stupid JOKE, and not even a very sexual one at all, dammit! This was fucking ridiculous!

Since Giles's expression didn't change in the slightest, Faith was fairly sure that he, like Cordelia, was oblivious to her sudden and unwilling double mastectomy. Nevertheless she crossed her arms, self-conscious, anxious, and furious all the same, seething at the feel of the straight, bony plane of her chest against her arms and cursing Earl mentally as Giles replied.

"For your training," he said simply, as though it were an obvious fact to them both. "I've come to escort you to the library for your training today. I will continue to do so unless Cordelia agrees to drive you in the future on her way to school." He turned his head then, letting his eyes drift around the pool area and up the side of Cordelia's house. "This is quite impressive…very…imposing, isn't it?"

Faith had no interest in discussing houses whatsoever. Her mind was too busy latching onto Giles's reference of training and escorting her to it to let go. Before, her training had been between her and Buffy only half the time, and with Giles, it had been whenever she felt like it, if she felt like it, and if he wasn't working with Buffy or wanting her to work with Buffy. In other words, sporadic at best and fairly rare. And now he was not only talking about training- Giles, who was no longer a Watcher- but personally showing up to DRIVE her to it?

Was ANYTHING going to stay the same with Earl sticking his nosy angel ass everywhere?

"Okay…WHAT training? How did you even get in here anyway or know where the pool area was?" Faith asked suspiciously, continuing to keep her arms crossed over her chest tightly as she leaned against the doorway, periodically glancing down at herself to check if her breasts were back.

Of course not…and their absence made her so freaking uncomfortable she wanted to crawl out of her own skin, and couldn't bring herself to look Giles in the eye. Damn, if Earl was gonna just take away her boobs, he might as well put her in pigtails and a ruffled dress too while he was at it. And if he was reading her mind right now, he better not get any fucking brilliant ideas either, it was a SARCASTIC THOUGHT!

"I called Cordelia in to the library and asked for directions and the code to her gate," Giles replied, "as well as the key, just in case. I will have to return it to her at school, I suppose. Now, we must get going, Faith, if we are to begin our training by 9:00, and that is my goal for each day from now on. With the weekends off, unless something such as an apocalypse comes up, of course. Training from 9-11, studying for an hour, a break for lunch, and then, depending on the day, and whether I will work with Buffy individually as well, you may choose to work with her as a pair later, after school. Now, shall we go?"

Giles half turned, glancing briefly towards her, as if the matter was clear and settled in his mind and he expected nothing less than for Faith to follow him. Faith, for her part, could barely keep herself from gawking, and as it was, she dimly suspected that her mouth was open. In her near amazement, she almost even forgot about her complete lack of breasts in her own sight.

What the hell WAS this?

"Whoa, wait, just hold on a minute here," she protested, putting up both hands, as if to fend off any further information. "Just who SAYS I'm gonna do all that? WESLEY? Because like hell am I gonna listen to anything HE wants me to do, let alone TRAINING with him!"

"I understand and respect that, Faith, and no one expects you to," Giles said calmly, his expression unchanged. "Wesley and I have had a…conversation…this morning, and I think we all understand that it is best he learn from observation before attempting to put into practice experience that he does not yet possess. I will be working with you and Buffy. Wesley will observe, as I stated, and hopefully, he will learn from it as well."

There were so many questions shooting through her mind at that explanation that for a moment Faith could only stare, having no idea which to start with or even how to form the words to say them. Finally she settled on the easiest, the one that kept her on a safe continued defensive.

"Who says I agree to do all that with you either? I never said I'd do anything. You can't just come here and tell me I'm gonna do something, how do you think you'd make me if I didn't want to?" she leveled, lifting her chin, but to her shock, Giles didn't flush, stammer, look guilt-ridden and apologetic, or start cleaning his glasses, as she had expected. Instead, he looked right back at her with a steady gaze and spoke quietly but firmly.

"I doubt there is a person on this planet who could single-handedly make you do anything, Faith, by sheer force alone. But let me ask you something. If you do not come to school to train during the day…what is it, exactly, that you do with yourself?"

That was hardly the question Faith had expected, and she paused, thrown, not liking the answer that was already passing through her head. When she just half-glared at him, her hand tightening on the door frame without responding, Giles answered for her in the same infuriatingly level tone.

"Well, as you are up and dressed without prompting at this early hour, you clearly do not spend the day asleep, so there is not that sacrifice to make. What is it that you do with your time, Faith?" he persisted. "Watch television? Roam about the streets? I would think there would be little of interest for a girl your age to do in the hours of morning and early afternoon day after day, particularly when most of her peers are in school or working or asleep. Tell me, Faith, does what you do with your time rather than train keep you stimulated and amused to the degree that training is not worth your time?"

There was no way Faith was responding to that, because Giles's guesses of her activities before school let out were dead on…and the answer to his question, if she were entirely honest, which Earl now demanded she be, would have to be no. She gritted her teeth, shifting her eyes away, and Giles continued to press gently.

"I would think, Faith, that you would wish to use your time in a way that most benefits you. You are quite clearly a capable and accomplished person, both as a young woman and a Slayer. If that were not so, you would not still be standing here before me today. Nevertheless, it can only be to your own benefit and ultimate satisfaction to become even better and more able, and training and practice on a regular basis are necessary to be able to do so. Nothing is being asked of you except that you come and do your best. I will provide transportation for you to and from school, unless by chance Cordelia drives you at times. Now, I think we had best get started off."

He turned back towards the doorway, but Faith still wasn't finished processing what he was telling her, nor was she ready to placidly follow without comment.

"Giles, I thought you're not even a WATCHER anymore, I thought Wesley was supposed to be our Watcher. What, one day of guilt and you're bucking the entire Tweed Brigade Patrol? You can't train anyone, you were fired, remember? And who said I even agreed to any of this?"

"As I stated, Wesley will observe and be of assistance, but he will not be in charge of your training, nor of Buffy's. If the Watcher's Council has an issue with this, they can take up the matter with me, as well as the matter of what exactly they owe you as a Slayer in their supposed employment. We, of our own means and through the Council if possible, will provide you with monetary support, but you will not work with Wesley in the same manner that you will with me. Wesley does not have an understanding of your abilities and needs in regards to your progress as a Slayer, nor in how to help your further them, and it would be best for all if he did not attempt to work in the face of this lack, wouldn't you agree?" he asked her, raising an eyebrow mildly, and Faith smirked.

"Damn straight I do. But you think YOU do either?" she asked with more than a little bit of a challenge in her tone. "If you're so damn knowledgeable about me and my progress, then what the hell am I doing HERE?"

She hadn't meant to draw attention back to the confrontation of the day before. She had hoped to simply talk around it, if not avoid it entirely. But now that she had brought it up, it wasn't like she could back down. And anyway, she had a damn good point. He had never asked so much as two questions of her before, and now suddenly he's showing up at her door raring to go? Just because he had finally opened his eyes to reality didn't mean he knew a single thing about her, hardly more than Wesley did…so what exactly was he trying to do here? And how long would it even last before he realized he couldn't make her into Buffy, lost interest, and went back to status quo anyway?

She thought for sure that Giles would back down after that, if not back out the door and into his car without trying to bring her to training at all. But he didn't. He kept holding her gaze, and though there was some regret in his expression, there was mostly a conviction and calm that stunned her…a look she had never truly seen in him before.

"You are right, Faith," he told her. "I do not know. Not as I should, and I aim to correct this. Right now, today, is when I plan to start."

He seemed serious…way, way serious. And as Faith frowned slightly, maintaining his gaze with some shock, she tried to blank her face out, to distance herself from any sort of reaction beyond skepticism.

There was no reason to think this would last. People don't just CHANGE, not really. She knew that more than anyone…that was why Earl was having to mutilate her multiple times a day to do so, and Giles looked alright to her.

"I never said I wanted you to," she asserted, crossing her arms. But after a few moments, she found she had a hard time maintaining steady and cynical eye contact, much harder than usual. "I never said I'd do any of your training crap, so what makes you think I will?"

"I'm asking you now," Giles replied simply. "Although I can assure you that should you choose to refuse, you will nevertheless be offered the same choice every day, at the same time and in the same way, and next time, perhaps Miss Chase and Wesley can be persuaded to assist me in my request. I wager it would be easier and more pleasant for us both for you to agree today, especially as to do so can only benefit you in every meaning of the world, while to refuse will take from you."

Bringing Cordy AND Wes over with him to harass her? Damn, Giles was really pulling in the big guns as far as irritating her to death could go in that case…what would be next, the entire Scooby gang? A group of middle schoolers? What were they trying to do, run her out of town? Knowing Earl, probably she'd freeze first…damn!

"So, Faith," Giles asked again, eyebrow raised, eyes on hers. "Are you coming, then?"

For a few moments she hesitated, a strong part of her wanting to hold out, out of spite and resentment, hurt and dread of what such a commitment might mean for her…for Faith knew that her agreement to come with him meant more than simple training in one day. Just how much did it mean and how far that might go, she didn't know or want to analyze…but taking that step was not a casual thing, and she suspected Giles knew this too.

And that was partly why she shrugged carelessly and stepped forward, cracking her knuckles with a bored sigh. If she acted as though it didn't matter, as if she was doing this on a whim rather than as any sort of commitment, then neither one of them could know that it was more…because she wouldn't let it be. She was just bored, was all. What else could she do all day?

"Whatever, G-Man," she shrugged, stepping ahead of him out the door and gesturing over dramatically. "Lead the way."

It wasn't until she was seated in the passenger seat of Giles's car and buckling her seatbelt that she realized her breasts had returned. She guessed it was Earl's way of appreciating her chosen course of action. Figured.

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In the car, Giles was silent for perhaps a minute as he backed out of Cordelia's extensive driveway and through her gate; apparently this required his full concentration, or perhaps he was merely gathering his thoughts. Either way, as he began to drive down the road exiting Cordelia's estate, he turned to Faith briefly. Even before he spoke she could see the agenda in his eyes.

"Now that you are staying here, it appears that your safety is not a problem, at least when you are residing within the property, as it takes significant effort for even a guest to enter. But of course, there are other matters you may be lacking…do you need food, Faith? Any sort of…supplies? You will receive an allowance today towards clothing, as we are aware that this is needed…is there anything else?"

Faith glanced at him, then directed her gaze towards the window, her fist closing unconsciously at her side. She hoped like hell she wasn't blushing or showing signs of how self-conscious his question made her feel, though it had been asked in a manner that did not imply pity.

It took her a while to figure out how to respond. She didn't want to tell him that she wanted or needed anything, especially after she was actually on her way to train with him. But if she said no, Earl would probably see that as a lie, and then what was she supposed to do? This was her last pair of pants!

"I…have stuff," she said finally, hoping that this was enough to satisfy Earl as not a lie while also getting Giles to leave it be.

But then Giles got specific.

"You have all you need now, other than clothing and money?"

There was no good answer to that. If she said yes, it was a lie, most likely. If she said no, he would want to know what it was she needed. Torn, Faith settled for shrugging, and Giles sighed, taking a quite but audible breath as he addressed her.

"Faith…I am going to tell you one time, and then, I assume, we can both only move forward and attempt to make amends," he said, keeping his eyes on the road, but occasionally shifting them to regard her for a second or two. "I am sorry that I have so badly neglected my responsibilities towards you since your arrival, and that my failure to do my job not only as a Watcher, but as a person, went on for such a long period of time. My actions were inexcusable. They will not be repeated."

Faith shifted uncomfortably, unable to even briefly look in his direction as her cheeks flushed. He was not asking for her forgiveness; he wasn't asking her for any acknowledgement at all. Nevertheless she could think of absolutely no response.

"I was quite wrong in my actions, and I do not discount that in any way," Giles continued, and there was something different about his tone now, firmer, so that Faith looked over at him in spite of herself, unclinching her fists from her lap. "However…my mistakes with you are not any excuse for you to do less now than give all you have to become everything you can. What you will learn, Faith, if you have not already, is that a Slayer, or any who fights the side of good against evil, must rise continually above the standards of the common man, to be more than merely human…in heart and soul, as well as in strength. It has no doubt been difficult for you, and I admit and apologize for my hand in that difficulty. But now is the time to truly grow in every meaning of the word. And I have no doubt that you can do so."

He fell silent then, apparently expecting no response from her, and Faith did not give him one, not at first. She stared out the window, her shoulders tense, and tried to push away any thoughts or feelings that might rise to surface. She could only form one sentence, the only one acceptably distant and wary enough.

"You think I'll screw up, or that I was gonna, if I didn't get all this."

"I think that I am impressed and pleased that you did not get into trouble you could not amend without great consequence," Giles corrected her, and Faith's stomach dropped, the memory of wide eyes, fading slowly in death, flashing into her mind. She was careful to keep her face turned away from his view. "Because at your age, Faith, and in your place, I would have. In fact, I did, and I had considerably less reason than one might attribute to yourself."

That piqued her attention. Faith couldn't imagine Giles ever having been young, let alone screwing up in a big way, and she turned her head towards him, interested.

"Yeah? What did you do?"

Giles exhaled, shaking his head slightly, and when he responded, his voice was somewhat subdued, almost somber.

"When I was a young man in university, I befriended five others, like myself- foolish, rebellious youth with more book smarts than common sense. We began to experiment in the dark arts- particularly in conjuring. One day, during a…er…illict…ceremony, we conjured a demon by the name of Eyghon. Eyghon murdered one of us, and over time, continued to kill all of us- all but myself, and another, Ethan Rayne. He nearly killed Buffy as well, when time had passed. The consequences of Eyghon spread far and wide, and affected many. I myself still bear his mark, quite literally."

At this proclamation, Faith's eyes scanned over Giles's body quickly, wondering just exactly what this mark was and where it was on Giles's body, but he didn't specify. After a few moments he continued.

"That is only the most serious of many quite serious mistakes I have made, Faith, and I suppose what I am trying to say is, that in comparison, I think you are doing quite well so far. And that what I wish for you- for all of you- is to not be pushed towards the same path that I have followed."

The rest of the drive to school, short as it was, was passed in silence, as Faith's thoughts flipped from Giles's mistake and her own, with the man in the alley…a mistake that for all but her and Earl, had never happened at all.

She had started down that path…she had started, and Earl had blocked it off, forced her to turn a different way. But what if he hadn't? As annoying as he was, what if Earl hadn't interfered…where would she be now?

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She hadn't known that Giles was capable of pushing her so hard.

The few times she had trained with him in the past, Faith hadn't really focused or tried, nor had Giles appeared to expect her to. He had seemed to take at face value that what she presented to him was the best she could do, or else that she would not try to do better, if he were to demand it of her. It had only been when Faith sparred alone with Buffy that she had ever really given it her all.

But today it was clear from the start that Giles was not accepting any less than her best effort, and though Faith was mystified as to why that was, she somehow felt driven to give it.

Giles had an entire training plan set up, to her own amazement; every time she completed one exercise, after giving her specific feedback, he would move on to directing her through another. What the hell had he done all night, lay awake reading his Watcher's Manual?

For his part, Wesley had wisely chosen to merely stay out of their way, making few comments and simply watching. He seemed almost horrified or embarrassed to meet either of their eyes, almost jumping when he did and quickly flushing or looking away. His greeting to Faith when she came into the library had been quite strained as well. Faith didn't know what sort of conversation Giles and Wesley had had, exactly, but it had obviously knocked the younger man into his place, and he seemed in no rush to attempt to reassert himself to it.

When Giles drew their work to a stop, stating that it was time for a break, during which they should all go about getting meals and attending to whatever was needed, Faith found herself actually sweating, adrenalized, and glad for a respite. She nodded, running a hand through her hair to push it back from her face as Wesley left the room. She started to follow him, intending to look for a water fountain, but Giles touched her shoulder as she walked by, stopping her. As Faith turned her head, questioning, he regarded her with a slight smile, but his eyes and tone were serious.

"I will see you tomorrow, in the same time, Faith, correct?"

There was not really a question in his words so much as a statement of what he thought to be a fact. Usually that would be enough for Faith to immediately say no, at the mere implication that she would obey another person's will because they said so. But she hesitated…because honestly, if she made herself consider it, she sort of had had fun. And compared to what she would normally be doing instead of training, he was kind of right. It wasn't really any better…really, it was pretty boring.

But having a schedule, after all this time? Being expected to do something, and do it well, with no excuses if she didn't follow through? This was the part rubbing her wrong…this was the part tempting her to just give up and walk out the door, and keep going all the way to a home that wasn't really hers.

But on the other hand…some part of her had enjoyed today…some part of her had missed this, working hard, receiving instruction, and being challenged to be better. Some part of her was reminded of how it had been once, before here. Before Sunnydale and the near anonymity that she was now, to everyone else.

She weighted this against her need for control, her need to space…but in the end it was the thought of herself watching shitty daytime TV or walking around alone yet again, bored of her skull, that made her nod in reply to Giles. Yeah…she'd be here tomorrow. Score one for G-Man…and damn Earl is probably doing a victory dance wherever he is now too.

"Very well then," Giles nodded, as if he had expected none other. "I will be there at 9, unless arrangements are made with Cordelia."

He was still touching Faith's shoulder lightly, and that was enough to make her tense, wondering what the hell he was about to do or say, because Giles touching her, let alone for longer than a split second, was freaking rare. And sure enough, his next words, quiet as they were, impacted her perhaps more deeply than he had intended…or perhaps exactly as he had thought they might.

"You are not lacking in skill, when you work to apply yourself. Indeed, you are well-trained, and if your individual technique differs from Buffy's, it is nevertheless every bit as effective, not that you doubted that, I am sure." He paused, then added in a slightly softer tone, "Professor Dormer was a respected Watcher, and she has taught you well."

He squeezed her shoulder, very lightly and briefly, and then quickly removed his hand, beginning to walk towards his office with a last quick smile in her direction. For a few moments Faith simply stood there, her features still, as his praise settled over her. It was the first time that he, or any, had ever said her Watcher's name, and to hear it spoken aloud by a voice not her own, invoked in her a memory that was not involuntary and hurriedly buried again, was almost paralyzing in its shock. Her heart beating rapidly, she swallowed hard, setting her jaw, and tried to shrug it off, throw it aside as simple words.

But inside her chest ached, her eyes burned with sudden fiercely held back tears, and she wondered with more hope than she wanted to admit to herself if it were true. If she had been a good student for Professor Dormer…if her teaching had not been totally wasted. If anything about her could still make her proud.

Of course not. She had screwed up long ago, and as badly as a Slayer could screw up with a Watcher. She had not protected her. She had not saved her. She had not done her duty as a Slayer, and Professor Dormer had died. And what's more, she had done the same thing all over again just a few days ago, and this time, Faith's own stake had done the deed.

Professor Dormer may have taught her well, but Faith had not learned well, and she could not possibly make her proud.

Still…she found herself, standing in the middle of the library for those few moments, unable to keep from desperately hoping that it were true.


	19. 19

Slumping down on one of the library's tables, Faith spread out the bounty that was her lunch before her, eyeing it somewhat moodily. Giles had earlier given her money for lunch in the cafeteria, in about as discreet a manner as he could manage, probably assuming she would be embarrassed by his offer. Which was true, somewhat. But it wasn't embarrassment or worries over something stupid like who to sit with at lunch that kept Faith from heading to the cafeteria to eat, it was the thought of all those kids all around her, talking and yelling and laughing, completely in her face. Faith would rather get crappy food from a vending machine and eat where she could have some personal space in the library, apart from Hormone and High Heel Zone, than eat in the cafeteria, where everyone would zoom in on the new girl. And what with her flaming pants and disappearing boobs issue, it was probably a good idea to just stay away from the world at large.

What she hadn't counted on was the world coming to her- if one person could be counted as "the world." In this case, Faith was inclined to say it could be, since that one person had a pizza box in his hand.

"I come bearing pizza," Xander Harris announced, coming to stand before Faith at her table and holding it out to her, as if to present her with evidence of his statement. "Extra cheese and pepperoni, pan tossed crust, and as of now, fully intact, for you to pick your very favorite of the eight slices." His eyes came to rest on Faith's scattered array of snacks on the table, and he added, "Of course, if you'd rather have Funyuns and Snickers, that is also a respectable dietary choice. I personally prefer Ho-Hos and peanut M&Ms, but can't be too choosey when it comes to school vending machines."

Faith sat up straight quickly, her eyes on the pizza box, and as her mouth watered at the aroma already seeming to fill the entire library, her stomach grumbled noticeably. THIS was more like it.

"You snuck that past the high school lunch Nazis?" she asked, and Xander held the box out from him with one arm, gesturing dramatically with the other. But it was the precariously balanced pizza box and not him that Faith was eyeing. If he dropped it, her Slayer reflexes were primed to catch it.

"The noble Knight Harris risks any suffering and pain to deliver pizza to the lady Lehane," he intoned, and Faith smirked, rolling her eyes. But it was hard to be too annoyed when the man had pizza in his hands.

"Showing off how you actually know my last name now ain't gonna win you too many brownie points at this part of the game, X-Man…but pizza…if this is a bribe, it's the best damn one I've been offered all day," she said with more sincerity than it probably sounded like, still eyeing the pizza box, and Xander watched her hopefully.

"So it worked then?"

"It's a start," she told him, holding out her hand towards the box. "Hand it over and then we'll see."

There were no plates or even napkins, but neither were concerned with stains from sauce or pizza grease. Xander watched with some awe as Faith devoured two slices in the time it had taken him to eate one, and she smirked to herself, making no effort whatsoever to eat in a more mannerly fashion. She was hungry, this was free food, and it was good. What did she care if she looked like a freaking lady while eating when she sure as hell didn't look like one when she was doing anything else?

Faith could have easily eaten the entire pizza herself, but she made herself stop at four slices, waiting for Xander to catch up. After all, the guy had paid for it, presumably. Though why that mattered to her, she had no idea.

What was all this about anyway? Guilt? Figuring this time he'd make it more like she owed him to sleep with her?

Whatever. Free pizza was free pizza. But that didn't mean she wasn't going to be watching out for what he was trying to do.

Lids half lowered, she eyed Xander, who, although he was still eating, was carrying on a pretty much one-sided conversation that Faith was only listening to enough to think it had something to do with the crappiness of cafeteria food. He was still glancing at her often enough and talking fast enough for her to know he was nervous, which meant in her mind that he was definitely up to something.

Yeah, time to screw with him.

Faith held her greasy, slightly saucy hand in front of herself, studying it, as though it were a fascinating thing to behold, her features carefully arranged. Then, making sure Xander was noticing and watching, she began to lick her fingers with slow, deliberate emphasis, running her tongue up their length and slowly curling it around.

She definitely had Xander's attention now. He stared at her openly, seeming to have forgotten all about the pizza in his hand as his eyes widened, not appearing to blink as she slowly and thoroughly licked each of her fingers clean. Xander continued to watch, almost breathless; Faith would have snickered, had it not broken the silence stretched between them.

And then she noticed through partly lowered eyes that her breasts had mysteriously gone AWOL yet again. Shit! If this was going to go on for a while, whenever she had cash for buying new clothes, there was practically no point in looking at bras.

She stopped licking herself abruptly, her eyes jerking up, even though she still had two fingers to go, and Xander's head snapped up too, his cheeks flaming. He cleared his throat, attempting to change the subject- and undoubtedly whatever detour his mind had been taking.

"Uh, um, right…so, uh, you liked the pizza?" he said lamely, clearly casting about for some distraction, and she ignored the question, cutting to the chase.

"So what is this, X-Man? How did you even know where I was anyway?"

"Easy, Giles stopped me in the hall when I first came in, asking if I'd seen Cordelia," he said with obvious relief to have something to focus on beyond Faith, his posture relaxing back against the chair again. "He said something about needing to get to her place to talk to you, and bringing you here. Wasn't really listening but I figured it was worth a shot, to see if you were or not. If not, more pizza for me. Not that I was hoping, or anything, just, you know, looking for the bright side. Gotta do that when you're a Sunnydale native, so you have enough hope that if you get out of bed you might survive the day," Xander added hurriedly, then changed the subject again.

"So, are you living with the Queen of Sarcastic Putdowns now, or did you just stay for the night? I didn't really get the story on that."

And he wasn't going to, if Faith could help it, at least not from her. As it was she was shocked that Buffy hadn't been spreading the word far and wide about poor homeless Faith and her one pair of pants. Was she actually trying to keep a secret for once and keep Faith from being embarrassed? Or was she just feeling guilty?

Who the hell knew…trying to figure out why anyone did anything was enough to give Faith a headache.

"Neither," Faith responded shortly, shrugging, and when Xander looked at her blankly, then opened is mouth to ask another question, she sighed loudly, exasperated.

"I'm not living with HER, it's just her friggin' pool house. But I'm staying for more than one night, alright? Don't you want to go throw the pizza box away before Snyder sees you and gets you in trouble?"

She'd hoped that possibility would distract him, but instead Xander stuffed the box under the table, persisting in his questions. "How did THAT happen? I mean, no offense, but I didn't think you two even liked each other, so unless she had to, I can't see her…I mean, Cordy, she really holds a grudge, and she's not one to just-"

"Imagine, holding a grudge because you got impaled through the gut when you caught your guy cheating on you with the geek next door," Faith said with as much amusement as sarcasm, raising an eyebrow. "You know, for someone who dresses like a dork and acts so shy, old Red sure gets around. Sure she's not casting the mojo on you and Wolfboy when your backs are turned?"

"That, that's different, and it wasn't- she isn't- it's not- Willow isn't casting a spell on me!" Xander settled for the one aspect of her comment he could dispute, flushing darkly and squirming in his seat. Faith snickered, crossing her arms over her still apparently flattened chest.

"That YOU know of."

"I mean, usually, Cordy would only let someone stay if she was blackmailed into it or something," Xander attempted to change the subject back, still flushing noticeably. Then with apparent interest at this new idea, his eyes widened, and he looked back at Faith quickly. "Hey, ARE you blackmailing her? Come on, give me the scoop, I could use some good material to toss back at her next time she gets in one of her Cordy comments on the complete loser she thinks I am without her correcting my every move."

"I wish," Faith replied with sincerity that was probably just a little too apparent in her tone.

It would make a lot more sense to her, what Cordelia was doing, if she was blackmailing her…she'd feel a lot more comfortable accepting it than she did now too. Like she didn't really owe her anything. Like it was okay…like they were square.

When Xander kept looking at her like he expected another answer, Faith exhaled, rolling her eyes, and glanced down at her chest in time to see that her breasts were back again. With this realization, she relaxed visibly in posture. About time.

"Look, if you're looking for some big story, I ain't got it, I've got no idea why Queen C does anything she does. Maybe she's just hoping with me that close, she'll get a chance to sneak into my room and ravage me in my sleep," Faith told him, her lips quirking, eyebrows lifting suggestively.

When Xander almost choked at the thought, his eyes wide from the images no doubt flitting through his head, Faith grinned, stretching theatrically. "You were with her…didn't she ever whisper in your ear all her twisted little fantasies of walks on the wild side?"

Even as she stretched in a manner that was intended to draw obvious attention to her breasts, Faith could see to her fierce frustration that in her own view, she had already lost them yet again. Growling inside her mind, her smirk slipping into a real scowl before she could help herself, she straightened abruptly, even as Xander blinked and tore his eyes away, still flushing.

"Uh, no…no, sadly, we never got…wild or twisted…or even past second base…I always did suck at baseball. She has wild and twisted fantasies?" he asked almost hopefully before quickly shaking his head again, attempting to snap himself out of it. "You know, you, you aren't making this any easier, with your stretching, and, and all this talk about twisted fantasies!"

"Am I supposed to be?" Faith raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. Periodically she snuck a glance down at herself to check on the status of her breasts…still gone, dammit. "What exactly is the THIS that you're driving at you want me to be making easy for you?"

There was never a free pizza out of the goodness of someone's heart. This was guilt all the way working on Xander here, and sure enough, it was a guilt look, sigh, and speech that came next, or rather Xander's best effort towards one.

"Faith…I want us, well, I want ME, to try to make things better. With us, I mean. The…us…having sex…and me, not knowing things…I just, I wanted to let you know I'm sorry."

Sorry…sorry, huh? So it was THAT talk.

"Sorry for sleeping with me without knowing or caring what my last name was, for calling me a slut after when I told you that you weren't gonna get some again, or for sucking at it?" Faith leveled back, as distant and sardonic in her expression and tone as she could make herself, even as her squirmed inside and subtly shifted her weight in her seat.

If one more freaking person got guilty conscience going today…and dammit, Buffy would be next. Maybe she should take off now before it got any worse.

Checking her chest again quickly, she saw that her breasts were present again but continued to keep her arms crossed, just in case. Maybe she should just stop looking down.

At this directness of questioning, Xander's shoulders rounded in, and his eyes shifted away as he shrugged uncomfortably, struggling through his response as he tried to make himself meet her eyes again. "Well…for all three, I guess. But I never actually called you a slut…did I?" he frowned, and then, in a burst, a good twenty seconds later, he added, "Was I really that bad? You know…with sex?"

It was very tempting to her to tell him yes, that he had really sucked, and should therefore look into a career as a priest in the future, complete with romps with altar boys. Faith could feel the words forming on her tongue. But then she looked at Xander's earnest, troubled expression, and she couldn't bring herself to be that biting. Not to mention that it would be a lie, for the most part, and if her freaking pants set off the school smoke detector, there was absolutely no way she could keep from people being in her face over it.

"You were okay," she admitted, shrugging, not meeting his eyes as she swung her feet back and forth under the table. "Just fast."

"Oh," Xander replied with both relief and embarrassment coloring his tone. "Right…I guess, I guess I'll work on that…not with you! Unless you changed your mind. And it was right. And we knew each other better. And-"

He stopped, his face flaming, and glanced hurriedly towards Giles's office, his voice dropping sheepishly. "Uh…is Giles there right now?"

"Yep," Faith grinned. It was the first time she had considered this too, and she leaned back in her chair, more than a little amused. "And if he hears he'll be cleaning his glasses hard enough to break them, I'm guessing."

Xander shook his head, the embarrassment still plain in his face, but when he looked back at her, he had managed to push most of it aside to appear serious again.

"Faith…do you think we can get past all that? I mean, maybe not right away…but…I'd like us to be okay, you know? I'd like us to be friends. I'd really like that…if we could be."

Peering back into his face, Faith felt her brow furrow unconsciously, her features drawing into a frown…because he meant what he was saying, at least in the moment, or at least he thought he did. Whether it was guilt or not, Xander was sincere…he wanted to be friends. Real friends.

And that…the thought was strange, unsettling, almost laughable…but also as scary as hell.

Friends, real friends, you couldn't hide from, couldn't lie to, and get away with it, not just because a temporary flaming ass thing, but because they would know. A real friend knew you, really knew you…and a real friend, when they turned on you, could hurt you all the more.

A real friend was a scary thing…something Faith had long told herself she didn't need or want. But looking at Xander now, a sharp ache stabbed through her heart, and she knew that she did in fact want one. Maybe Xander wouldn't have been her first choice…but just to have a friend, a real friend…Faith didn't' believe it was even possible, or that if it was, she wouldn't somehow screw it up. She always had…no doubt, she always would.

But Xander wanted to try.

For several moments longer than she wanted, Faith hesitated, not fully able to meet his eyes. Eventually she shrugged, keeping her tone nonchalant.

"Hey, it's not like you broke my fragile girly-girl heart or destroyed my life or anything…so whatever happens happens, right? Don't sweat it," she replied before shifting in her seat, quickly changing the subject. "Hey, don't you have class or something? Bell will ring soon, probably."

Best to get him away from her before he got too earnest again, before he started trying too hard to push close. As usual, however, Xander seemed totally oblivious to what Faith had thought of as a broad hint.

"Oh, it's just study hall again, it doesn't matter," he said unconcernedly, then glanced around the library as if seeing it for the first time before looking back at her. "So what are you doing here all day anyway? I thought you don't really do the whole organized training thing."

Okay, he was pushing…Xander and his newfound determination to be a "friend" meant a sudden interest and nosiness in Faith's life that hadn't existed before, and she sooo didn't feel like going there, especially in the middle of the freakin' high school library where anyone could walk in at any second. Yet since he was trying so hard to show what a "friend" he was now, and yesterday she had totally blasted him for never asking her questions, now she had the uncomfortable result of a Xander who was now a sudden Nancy Drew wannabe. Yes, this was definitely not gonna work out how Faith wanted…time for a new course of action.

She stood slowly, stepping back from the table and stretching in a long, languid, and deliberately seductive manner, twisting her torso so her shirt rode up to expose her flat stomach, and stuck her chest out as prominently as possible. Yeah, she might feel stupid acting sexily when in her eyes she wasn't gonna be able to see her own breasts…but Xander would, so what did it matter? The desired results of his being distracted would be the same. didn't matter what SHE saw.

As Xander's eyes followed her immediately, and he swallowed, nervous, yet intrigued, Faith smirked to herself, getting more into it. She ran her hands over her sides slowly and then up her arms, over her head, in sensual caresses, still holding herself in a way that was making herself as sexual and enticing in appearance as possible.

As she watched through hooded eyes, Xander swallowed several times, almost frantically, his eyes widening. He was outright gawking at her without attempting to hide it- definitely distracted, all right. When he shut his eyes, rubbing them with both hands, then opened them again, still staring, it was all Faith could do to keep from laughing as she continued to almost grope her re-flattened chest. She bet he'd be making a run for it any time now.

But then Xander spoke, and that illusion was drastically altered.

"Where did they go?" he blurted, his voice loud, shocked, and Faith froze, following his gaze…which was directed exclusively to her disappeared chest.

He could see it now, that Earl had taken her breasts away. Somehow, Earl had decided to change things up, or escalate her consequences, and Xander could see…and looked astonished enough to not let it go for the next month.


	20. 20

Faith straightened immediately, pulling her shirt down in one yank, and crossed her arms, taking on a posture that was now defensive rather than seductive as she quickly scrambled for something to do or say. Deny- it was the only thing she could do. But how the hell was she supposed to do that without lying? Think, Faith, THINK!

"Where did what go?" she bluffed, raising an eyebrow, and trying to rearrange her features into mild confusion rather than panic or embarrassment.

Apparently speechless, Xander sputtered, reddening, as he gestured somewhat feebly towards her chest. Faith looked down at herself too, feigning oblivion to his meaning, and continued to raise her eyebrows, hoping like hell she looked convincing.

"What are you talking about, X-Man?"

"You don't- you don't SEE that?" Xander almost yelped, and she shrugged, still carefully watching her words and tone.

"What am I supposed to see?"

She almost snorted in amusement when Xander blinked several more times, then rubbed his eyes again, deliberately tearing his eyes away from her chest, shaking his head. Yeah, as long as she could just throw questions back at people without really answering, she had both of Earl's little games covered.

Which probably meant he'd step it up again soon, dammit.

"Okayyy…someone needs some coffee, or maybe a nice drug test," Xander muttered, shaking his head again, and he cleared his throat, still red-faced as he looked back at her- very obviously only at her face, Faith didn't fail to notice.

"Um…right…uh…you're here…and not out…and, and making with Cordelia's place…so, uh, what's going on with that? Am I missing something here?" he attempted to redirect.

The whole friggin' point of her going sexy on him and risking losing her boobs was to distract him from asking those kind of questions, and there he was all over again, dammit.

Faith smirked, her tone biting. "You want to know just one thing you're missing, or the whole list?"

"Ouch," he winced, shaking his head, but that still was enough to make him stop. Instead, Xander took in a visible breath and looked her directly in the eyes as he asked, "Did something happen…with your motel, or something? Does it have something wrong where you can't stay, or did something break in or something?"

This was unbelievable. He just wasn't going to stop, was he…and he was so damn clearly oblivious it was unbelievable.

"Xander," Faith said slowly, still crossing her arms, her expression showing traces of disbelief now as well as sarcasm. "You were in my motel. Did you actually SEE it?"

"Uh…barely," he admitted, shifting his eyes away and coloring again slightly. "I was kind of distracted by, well, what was inside it."

Meaning the horny Slayer ripping off his clothes and throwing him on the bed, of course. Still, Faith's expression didn't change, nor did her blunt tone as she addressed him again.

"Did you notice that it sucked?"

"Well…not per say," he said slowly, again shifting uncomfortably. "Like I said, I was kind of preoccupied-"

"Did you notice that I don't have a job?" Faith continued to press, as Xander's sheepish discomfort escalated further.

"Well, now that you mention it…hey, how did you pay for the room then?" his eyes widened as pieces began to pile up in his head.

Faith ignored that, looking at him with her arms crossed- over breasts that had thankfully returned again- and raised her eyebrows.

"Add it all up and ask me again why I'm at Cordy's, I think even you can figure that one out," she said somewhat snippily, and Xander nodded slowly, following.

"Oh…well…that's, that's nice of her…unless she was ordered or something…I just, I didn't think you were friends enough that she would- or that you could even stand being in the same room without- does she talk about me a lot?" he blurted, his eyes darting back to Faith's with some dread and a touch of what seemed to be fear as well as defensiveness. "Because most of it isn't true, I bet, or at least very exaggerated!"

Hmm…no, but if she got the chance, Faith wouldn't mind hitting Cordy up for her Xander tales, they were probably hilarious to hear.

Thinking of that, she was smirking slightly even as she shook her head, rolling her eyes.

"We don't TALK, Xander, we're not FRIENDS, damn, you guys all think if people aren't actively trying to kill each other that means they're FRIENDS. You really gotta get a more exclusive criteria."

It was true. Buffy and Xander and all the rest, no doubt they had considered Faith to be their friend from the day she set foot in Sunnydale. Well, maybe not Buffy then, or Willow now, but otherwise, they'd figure doing a few bad guy chases and saying a few words back and forth with her once in a while meant they were friends. Never mind the way they left her out of their plans, forgot to tell her important details, and judged her to be a dumb, violent slut, a backup Slayer and nothing more. Friends, they were still friends, as much as they would allow, anyway.

Thinking about this, Faith could feel her jaw tighten, her shoulders tensing, but Xander was still stuck on the matter of Cordy, Faith, and Faith's new living arrangements.

"You know, when we were dating, she only let me come over to her place ONCE?" he was saying, some faint bitterness lingering in the incredulity of his tone. "And yet here you are somehow scoring a living invitation…are you sure you aren't blackmailing her? Whatever she did, it's gotta be bad for her to go with it."

However joking he sounded, Faith could tell he was partly serious too- and he seemed determined to not so subtly probe some answers from her. And she wasn't sure she could keep up her evasive routine indefinitely.

"Xander, go to class," he ordered, not even trying to sound playful about it, but she was uncomfortable to hear a weary, almost subdued edge to her tone, to notice that she was slumping slightly. Xander must have noticed this, because his face grew serious, even apologetic, as he leaned forward in his seat, meeting her eyes.

"Hey…sorry…it's just, you know, I didn't think you really needed somewhere else to stay," he tried to explain.

"What a shocker there," Faith muttered with more than a hint of sarcasm, and Xander's uneasy expression mirrored this, as well as the tension in his body, even as he attempted to continue talking to her. Or, Faith suspected, probe for info…or maybe he didn't see it like that at all. It was doubtful…but maybe he really did just want to talk to her, to have a conversation like a friend might.

Except that they weren't really friends…didn't he know that? Of course not, he was Buffy's gang, none of them seemed to know the difference, in Faith's view. Even so, somehow it was difficult to cut him off too harshly, to just get up and walk away. Maybe it was the pizza peace offering…or maybe, somewhere inside Faith, she just didn't really want to.

It was probably the pizza.

"Well, Cordy letting anyone stay with her who doesn't have an income that could double a zipcode does," Xander responded, and for a moment Faith braced herself for yet another nosy question, watching him warily. But he headed off in a different direction than she had expected.

"So, how are her parents around you? Have you had the double pleasure of making their acquaintances?" he asked with obvious sardonicism.

Faith shrugged, relaxing slightly, though still on edge.

"Nope, I hear they exist, but no proof of that yet…you sure you don't need to get too class?" she tried one more time, even as she knew Xander would not take her up on her pointed suggestion by now.

As she had anticipated, he waved off her question, not even seeming to have heard it. He was shaking his head, giving a short laugh with as much bitterness as amusement that made Faith frown towards him with some curiosity even before he spoke.

"Count yourself lucky you haven't…no one who does win a Mercedes and have live-in servants is good enough for their little princess," Xander muttered, still shaking his head.

He and Cordelia might not be dating any longer, and they definitely had their various issues…but watching him, listening to the way he spoke, it was clear to Faith that her parents' behavior towards him still bothered him…and that maybe, he had cared about Cordelia. That maybe he still did. And that thought made Faith straighten, looking at Xander all over again, with a lack of understanding of him that she had once thought she had. Could he really still care about Cordelia, even after doing the typical guy thing by cheating on her? What the hell did that mean if he did?

"Bad enough I wasn't some rich jock with stupid polo shirts and khakis," Xander was continuing, his tone still just above a mutter in volume, shaking his head. "But being a Harris? That was what really screwed me over, even before I managed that all on my own."

"Being a Harris?" Faith raised an eyebrow, interest piqued in spite of herself. "Being a Xander wasn't enough on its own?"

"Nope," Xander said with some flippancy, shrugging, but even as casual as his tone, expression, and posture appeared, Faith knew he was bothered by his words. It wasn't something she could see, so much as sense…maybe bred of her own continual experience. "Being a Harris, aka they who have lovely drunken "discussions" on a near nightly basis which usually result in all neighbors and often the police hearing every detail, that means something even to the filthy rich side of town. Which, incidentally, isn't actually very far from the not-so-rich side of town, so they probably hear half of the details with their own ears too. Doesn't matter what THEY do, see, as long as they're quiet about it and can pay off the cops if they're not. We might not be founding fathers of Sunnydale- like THAT'S something to be proud of in this place- or on the town council, but everyone knows what it is to be a Harris. Being a Xander, whose most cherished talents include donut fetching and frequent displays of corny humor, that's just the nail on the coffin."

He gave Faith a lopsided smile, but there was a shadowed look to his eyes, belying his amiable expression. "Hey, but if her parents put you down, you can at least knock them on their asses, right? You do that, and I'll give you five bucks to video it."

Faith didn't smile back; she didn't even meet Xander's eyes. She was thinking about what he had just said…not so much about Cordelia and her parents, but about himself…about his family. Because as briefly as he had described it…it sounded suspiciously close to what it had been like for her in Boston, to be a Lehane.

Drunken arguments in the night…the police showing up, barking through the door…her mother's face, pinched and sweaty, flushed, close to hers as her knotted fist drew near…eyes glassy, almost feverish…eyes showing nothing, open, but not seeing the shock slowly spreading across her daughter's face. The sneers at school as she walked by, the pointed stares at her clothes, her hair…the whispers, and sometimes direct comments, of slut and whore, bitch and tramp, loser and freak…

Faith had always dismissed Xander as a geek and something of a loser…not a bad guy, but a guy all the same, no different than all the rest when it came down to it…and a guy who was also one of Buffy's friends. He didn't really know her, didn't really want or try to know her, and she didn't really want to know him…not really.

But maybe…maybe it was possible that he did know her, a little, even if neither of them had even realized…maybe he could at least understand a little, a piece of who she was, even if she never told him it were so…and that was more than she ever would have expected.

"I didn't know," she told him finally, looking back towards him, and when Xander just looked at her, confused, she attempted to clarify. "About what it means to be a Harris. So not everybody."

"Well…that's something, I guess," Xander said slowly, and when he gave her a tentative smile, Faith found herself smiling back, just for a second, before both quickly looked away. Xander cleared his throat, suddenly much more nervous and jerky in his posture.

"So, uh…look, Faith…maybe we should hang out soon. Me, and you, I mean. I mean, if you want to."

Shit…so this was what he'd been aiming for. She should have known.

"I said you're not getting any from me, no more sex," she said curtly, tossing back her hair from her face and crossing her arms as she narrowed her eyes at him. "Goes for dates too, if you're gonna try to work back up to it or something. What, you trying to make Cordy jealous or something, because-"

"What? No, no," Xander protested, his eyes widening, and he shook his head hurriedly, holding up one of his hands. "That would be a nice BONUS, but that's not…no, it just…"he paused, taking in a slow breath, and then held her eyes, continuing quietly. "Well, we don't really know each other, if you think about it. Not really. I mean, I thought I did…but I didn't really think about it much. And we should. Know each other. I mean…I think I'd like that. If you want."

He stopped, waiting for her response, watching her closely. Faith hesitated, a flood of reservation of thought and feeling springing up, all urging her to turn away, to keep up all walls, all telling her to say no.

But when it came down to it, there was something in his eyes…something she couldn't truly understand or put words to. It was the look in his eyes that somehow assured her beyond any assurances a person could verbally make that whether or not Xander could follow through, he was sincere in his intentions…and that maybe if he didn't understand her, he still had an understanding, however slight, of a piece of her. And it was that which made her shrug, and gave her a reply.

"Okay, whatever…okay, alright? Look, I should…go train…see you later, alright?"

As she got up with considerably less coordination than usual, going to knock on Giles's door, Faith barely nodded when Xander, recognizing and finally obeying this as his dismissal, stood and stared towards the door, calling out his goodbye. As Giles opened the door and Faith quickly asked him for her next assignment, she was aware of her heart beating faster than usual, that her face felt flushed and strained.

How was it that someone like Xander Harris offering her his friendship- something only the corniest of dorks would do, and something he had sucked at giving before- could make her feel so damn much?


	21. 21

Chapter 21

Faith stared down at the envelope in her hands, or more specifically, its contents. She had already counted the bills four or five times, certain that her math was wrong, or that her eyes were playing tricks on her, needing to repeatedly touch and handle them in order to believe they were physically there before her. When they didn't dissolve into thin air or suddenly become much, much less than what she was counting and seeing, it still seemed nearly impossible to her to come to the conclusion that she really was holding $500 in her hands, and it had been given deliberately, exclusively, and specifically to her.

She had never had even half that much money in her hands all at once in her entire life.

Her last training exercise for the day had wrapped up several minutes ago; Giles had again quietly complimented her on her work, then disappeared briefly behind his desk to organize some books and papers. And that was when Wesley, who had been watching to the side quietly as the training came to a close, had stood, slowly making his way to where Faith sat, her face flushed, breathing more heavily than usual. As she glanced over at him, surprised, a little guarded, she expected him to make the pompous Wesley comments that he certainly would have the day before in regards to her training.

Instead he had carefully set a closed envelope beside her elbow, almost as if embarrassed to do so. Though his face was not flushed, he appeared flustered none the less, meeting her eyes very briefly before letting them flit away.

"There will, of course, be more coming, a quiet lesser amount, I am afraid, on a much more regular basis, er, an allowance of sorts, I suppose you would call it. This, this I was able to obtain during your break today, towards clothing for you, as I hear that is a specific, er, need of yours. I…I hope you find it to be an adequate amount."

Adequate amount? Faith could probably live off that much money for two years!

It was several more minutes, perhaps as much as a minute or two, before Faith was able to get past her initial disbelief enough to notice that Wesley was still standing there, watching her with unease…but also something new, tentative, an apology of sorts. Or maybe it was hope. She wasn't sure what she was seeing, exactly, but it was clear he was interested in her reaction and hoping it would be a positive one.

She nodded slightly, still staring at the money in her hands, then broke herself abruptly from her semi daze to look back towards him briefly as she fumbled for a reply.

"Yeah, this is…it's…thanks."

"Yes, I am glad you- well- I will see you tomorrow," Wesley stammered, increasingly awkward with her own stumbling words, and he backed away, gathering his things and heading for the library doors. "I, er, will not be staying to observe Buffy today…so I suppose- tomorrow-"

He paused at the door, turning, and then, drawing himself up more fully, looked her in the eye, saying with a more assertive formality that Faith would have found amusing, had she not been so bewildered, "Good work today, Faith."

Faith stared after him for a few seconds, brow furrowed, as he exited, the school dismissal bell for the end of the day ringing shortly after his departure. As she shook her head slightly glancing back as though magnetically drawn to do so at the envelope, Giles looked over at her from behind his desk, addressing her.

"You are free to go, of course, Faith, and you will not always be kept so late as today. Unless you would like to stay and work with Buffy?"

As if on cue, the library double doors flew open, and Buffy breezed through at a rapid pace, dressed in a strappy lavender top and a short white skirt that Faith found herself staring at involuntarily before quickly raising her eyes to her face. How the hell the little blondie kicked ass wearing stuff like that without flashing all her bits to anyone standing near, she had no idea, but Buffy managed. Faith had witnessed several times without any slips. Not that she'd been looking, or anything…exactly.

Buffy's demeanor as she made her entrance was a marked contrast to Wesley's exit. Seeing the bright smile Buffy was aiming her way as she headed over to her, and somewhat uncomfortably aware of the smell of her perfume even before she had reached the table, Faith cringed inwardly, knowing exactly what was about to happen. Peppy, overly friendly, guilt-ridden Buffy was definitely out in full force, and if Faith didn't find a way to make a fast escape, some way or another, she'd end up paying for it.

"Oh, hey, Faith, you're here today! What have you been doing, training? Or is something going on- nothing's going on, right, nothing apocalypsey? Not that we couldn't handle it, just, that was last week, can't they even give us one weekend off? It would be nice to have a break once in a while," she grumbled, pulling out the chair next to Faith and seating herself before turning to face her. Her nervousness was clear to Faith in both her face and voice. "So how's it going? Did I ask that already?"

"Whoa, B, take a breath," Faith smirked, and when Buffy did, she chuckled, even as her eyes shifted towards the door, attempting to come up with an escape. "No apocalypse, chill. I was just about to…uh…"

"Flee before you batter me to insanity or rage with your sudden, Xander-like decision to be my very chatty and concerned new friend" would be the truthful response, of course, but Faith could hardly say that. So instead she came to a halt, trying to figure out what exactly she could say that Earl would accept as truthful but would still give her an opening to go, but Buffy, naturally, not knowing this, jumped in with more comments.

"Were you training? Was Giles doing his ironic impersonation of a slavedriver? You know, if you just ignore him he has to go away, because he knows we can kick his ass."

"I am standing here, you realize," Giles said dryly from behind his desk, straightening, and Buffy glanced over at him wryly.

"Yeah, but you call your slavedriving tendencies "fostering focus and dedication," so you aren't exactly an unbiased judge. So you went home with Cordy, right? What was it like?" Buffy turned her attention back to Faith, her questions almost tumbling out over each other again. "I've seen her house before, but I never went inside, isn't it huge? Do they sleep, like, on golden beds? I've never met her parents before either, did you see them? How many cars do they have?"

"Damn, B, how much sugar did you have today?" Faith stalled, not even attempting to figure out which questions to answer. Already her head was spinning, and she edged away from Buffy a little more, eyes again moving towards the door. Suddenly the room seemed much, much smaller with Buffy in it, so close. Why was her life so extreme in how people did- or didn't- interact with her?

"Sorry," Buffy backed off, smiling with some self-consciousness and ducking her head, as though to hide a blush, before looking back at Faith. She seemed damn determined to look her in the eyes, as if to prove how sincere she was or something…but all that did was make Faith want to look away as fast as possible, because it wasn't reassuring, it was uncomfortable. Not to mention a little creepy.

"You're right, I, I should ease off. I should just stop. Well not just STOP, stop, because well, then I'd be dead, or unconscious, or in a coma, or something else like that were you STOP, stop, and that isn't any good, the world kind of needs a Slayer that isn't STOP, stopped. Not that you couldn't do it, whatever the world needed, since you're a Slayer too. I mean, it's not-"

Just when Faith thought her ears and Buffy's clearly overloaded brain couldn't take anymore, the library door swung open again as Xander, Willow, and Oz stepped inside, drawing both girls' attention in their direction. Faith didn't know if she or Buffy was more relieved to have this interruption, but the gratitude in Buffy's features and quickly relaxed shoulders was clear as she waved a bit more enthusiastically than normal, cutting her own words short.

"Hey! It's Xander and Willow and Oz," she said brightly, as if Faith either couldn't see this for herself or did not in fact know their names. "You guys want to sit down, we have chairs. There are tables, and there are chairs, and the floor, but you know, floor, hard."

If the girl didn't chill she was going to have a conniption. Faith wasn't actually sure what a conniption was, but whatever the case, B was close to having one.

"Hey, Buffy," Willow greeted her in turn, and Oz, holding her hand beside her and standing with the same inexpressive expression as always, nodded an acknowledgment to both Buffy and Faith, while moving the fingers not entwined with Willow's in a slight wave. Willow's eyes slid to Faith, and though her tone was the same in speaking her name as it had been with Buffy's, Faith didn't fail to notice the slight narrowing of her eyes, the careful way she held her expression. "Faith."

"How's it going, Slaya playas?" Xander asked playfully, looking between them as he came forward and slid himself casually into a chair across from them.

Faith didn't fail to notice that Willow did not make a move towards the table, and that her eyes were on Faith, her brow furrowed slightly. Her gaze shifted to Xander for a long moment, then back to Faith…not blatantly staring, but Faith noticed, alright. What the hell had she said to her the other day?

Oh yeah, the whole where's Xander routine…and B and her secretly knocked up and in love theory. No wonder Red's watchdog radar was up. Not to mention that Faith had also not exactly been unaware of Xander's frequent and not so subtle glances at her chest, as though to make sure her breasts were in fact still intact, and what that must look like to Willow.

Yeah, amusing as this was, time to get the hell out while she could.

"Hey, look, I'm-" Faith started to say, preparing to stand, but Buffy, who had clearly been listening to Xander more closely than she had, raised an eyebrow, cutting off her words.

"Slaya playas? Xander, you've been listening to rap music again, haven't you?" she smiled wryly, rolling her eyes, and Xander grinned, picking up an eraser from the table and tossing it up and down in one hand.

"Hey, anyone can be gangster if they work on it."

"First off, you want to be gangster, don't actually SAY gangster, and you don't pronounce it like it's written in the dictionary," Faith had to insert at that point. Even with the goal of removing herself from their presence as fast as possible, she couldn't just let a statement like that go by without comment. "Second off….dude, you're the whitest guy I've ever met, and I'm not talking skin color. You make Angel look like a 'gangster,'" she snickered, deliberately overemphasizing Xander's pronounciation.

When she saw Giles's befuddled expression from where he was overhearing by his desk, she almost laughed out loud. No telling how much of the conversation he understood or what he was thinking. Did rap music even exist in wherever Giles came from?

"Hey," Buffy frowned slightly, her tone faintly defensive. "Angel could be gangster! If that was what he wanted…"

Faith had to laugh at that. The very image that arose from that statement was so preposterous it should be illegal even to imagine, because it was that damn frightening.

"Have to give up his hair gel first, B, not to mention the girly name," she snickered, shaking her head. "On second thought, maybe you're only the second whitest guy, X-Man, maybe I was a little harsh with the Angel comparison."

"Hey, already on my way up," Xander declared, shifting in his seat and resting his hand in the chair next to his. When it touched the pizza box he hadn't thrown away earlier, he stood and carried it towards the larger trash can in the back of the library, calling out to Faith playfully over his shoulder. "Bribe a girl with pizza and she still doesn't support your dreams of gangsterdom."

"You bought Faith pizza?" Willow blurted, her voice somewhat tense, eyes widening as she looked between them quickly. She had moved closer to the table with Oz but still had not sat down. "Is that what you had to do at lunch today?"

Shit…time for that escape people kept distracting her from actually doing.

But as Faith started to stand, Buffy, obviously desperate to find something to say to shift the focus off Willow's question, touched Faith's envelope, which had been resting next to Faith's hand on the table.

"What's this, Faith? Is it yours?"

If she opened that envelope, Faith was going to kill her. Second chance or not, if B made what she had just blatantly drawn everyone's attention to any worse, Earl was just gonna have to give her a third chance.

Giving her a very pointed stare, her jaw tensed, Faith snatched the envelope from under Buffy's hand, holding it against her as she said with deliberate emphasis, "Yeah, it's mine. Something Wes gave me."

She continued to stare Buffy down, even as she knew the others, specifically Willow, were watching- though Xander's gaze did keep involuntarily drifting to her chest. It was Buffy, after all, who had demanded that Faith be given money. Surely she'd get it if Faith kept looking at her and know to back the hell off, right?

Maybe she should just go.

It took several moments of Buffy looking back at her with blank confusion before the light switched on, and her features flooded with understanding of the implication. Her mouth opened, eyes widened, and if Faith had been cornered by her question, her not so subtle reaction now was making her that much more freaking conspicuous now.

"Oh! Oh, right, the- what he was going to- right! Right…Faith, we should go shopping!" Buffy said brightly, giving her a way too enthused smile.

At those uttered words, Faith's heart beat that much faster. Shopping. With Buffy. Buffy, and shopping. Together. At one time. In one day.

If Faith had been giving the choice between that and sitting in a tub of rattlesnakes, she wasn't sure which would be the more dangerous choice.

When she didn't answer immediately, scrambling for a reply, Buffy took this as an invitation for further convincing, grabbing her arm and looking at her with earnest enthusiasm.

"We never went shopping together before, Faith, it will be total fun! I'll show you all the good places to go- not that there's a whole lot of places in Sunnydale, it's pretty much just the mall and Wal-Mart, but you take what you can get, right? Oh! Maybe we can go outside Sunnydale and REALLY get some good shopping in! Maybe Mom will let me borrow her car, or, or, Xander-" she glanced over at him questioningly, being met with his hesitant grimace.

"Not much for girly shopping expeditions, Buff…well, unless I get dressing room access?" he suggested hopefully. When met with Buffy's raised eyebrows, he shrugged and grinned. "Worth a shot…but, you know, Buffy, you and cars…and driving…"

"Oh, Faith could drive!" Buffy assured him, glancing back at her with still way too much enthusiasm for Faith's taste. "You drive, right, Faith? Or, or Willow!" she added, turning her head to the other girl, who had been standing with her expression stiff and barely controlled as she watched Buffy's plan unfold, clearly jealous at her initial exclusion.

Not, of course, that Buffy seemed to notice.

"Will, you can come too, all of us girls. How's that sound?"

Like total hell, in Faith's mind, and a way to be forced to answer a lot of questions they would end up asking. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

"Uh," she stalled, looking to Giles quickly, knowing to her irritation that she must look as uncomfortable a she felt. "Uh, didn't Giles want you to train?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Giles spoke up, coming closer to the group with a large book in one hand. "Buffy, you need-"

"Well, we can go after that, how long can it take? The mall's open late," Buffy waved him off, barely even glancing at him. She was doing way too good a job of looking Faith in the eye, where it was hard to pull her eyes away. "Shop, eat, then slay after. You know. Girly fun stuff."

Did the girl really think that describing her plans for the evening as "girly fun stuff" was any more likely to not make Faith want to run like hell?

"Uh…look, B…" Faith started, glancing towards the door as she scanned desperately for an excuse that wasn't a lie.

To her gratitude, just before the looked toward the door, it swung open, and the sound of Cordelia's scathing voice gave them all much needed diversion.

"Like anyone would take YOUR shopping advice, Buffy," she rolled her eyes as she strode into the room, coming to stand near Giles's desk and face them with one hand on her hip. "Between the three of you, with Miss Dorks R Us, Miss I Dress Like a Pedophile's Dream But Wear Pastels So You Think I'm Innocent Even Though I Kill Things With My Bare Hands, and Miss I Can't Decide If I'm A Dominatrix Or Just Colorblind And Unimaginative, that's one shopping trip you couldn't PAY me to take. The only way it could get any worse is if HE was going too," she added, cutting her eyes in Xander's direction pointedly.

The others alternately exhaled, stiffened defensively, or ignored her, in Oz's case, but Faith, whatever Cordy's comments, was thrilled. At least she was taking the heat off Faith, which gave her a better chance of actually getting away.

"Do you need something, Cordelia?" Giles asked with strained patience, and Cordelia huffed, rolling her eyes again.

"Yeah, to turn in library books. You know, those things that reside in a library. SOME people, you may be shocked to know, use the library NORMALLY, because they're forced to for school, to actually check out library books, instead of hanging around after school every day reading about cannibalistic snot monsters or something," she rolled her eyes, cutting a pointed glance between Buffy, Willow, and Xander in particular.

Shrugging off her backpack and letting it fall to Giles's desk with a heavy clunk, she dug out two books, shoving them into the return slot, and rezipped and res-shouldered her bag again, pausing only once, while standing in the doorway again, to pointedly make her last remark.

"About the doomed-from-the-start shopping trip thing, by the way, I guess you don't remember that none of you have a car, unlike SOME of us, who have TWO. So if you've got a plan on how to tote home a million bags from JC Penney's or whatever lame place you're got in mind, don't include calling me for a ride as an option."

As she made her exit, leaving the others staring after her somewhat delayed in response, Xander shook his head sardonically.

"That's our Cordy…always with the help. Anyone else think one of those two cars would look much more attractive covered in eggs and wrapped in toilet paper?"

"Says the guy who won't share the use of HIS junk on wheels," Faith retorted, defensive towards Cordelia, to her mild unease. She ignored it, deciding not to analyze it; someone who gives you a roof over your head and doesn't blab about your ass on fire incidents, you kind of have to give them some slack on bitchiness, was all. "Of course, yours is so covered with dents and bird shit that toilet paper would probably be a nice improvement. Like gift wrap or something."

"Surely you jest!" Xander replied with mock horror, widening his eyes and putting a hand over his heart. "Don't say that in front of her, old Maggie is very sensitive, you know. She might spit out part of her engine and cripple you for life."

"I'll keep that in mind," Faith smirked as she stood at last, easing from the table and heading for the library doors in what she hoped was as casually as possible, giving Buffy and the others a brief nod and praying Cordy talk was enough of a distraction for her to slip out without further issue. "Got some things to do, see ya later B, guys."

"Wait, what about shopping, I thought we were going shopping!" Buffy protested, getting to her feet and staring to push back from the table as if to go after her. "Faith, you need- I mean-" she amended with a fast glance at the others, as if realizing just in time that maybe Faith wasn't too thrilled at the thought of them hearing all about her lack of clothing and newfound monetary means to acquire some. "It will be fun! Come on, where else are you going if we don't' go shopping anyway?"

Faith DID plan to go shopping. But there was a huge difference between shopping with Buffy and Willow tagging along, thrusting polar bear pajamas at her and little frilly skirts, and her going by herself. In one, she had a much higher chance of keeping both her pants and sanity intact.

"B, I've got stuff to do, see you," she said with more insistence, opening the library doors, but even so she caught a strange mix of suspicion, confusion, and jealousy in Willow's expression as her eyes shifted from Buffy to Faith to Buffy again before speaking.

"Buffy, if she doesn't want to go, don't try to make her. WE can go, can't we?"

"Yes, but-" Buffy started, then stopped, confliction rising to her eyes as she bit her lip.

Faith knew the guilt trip Buffy was riding on, that she was so gung ho on doing this girly bonding shopping trip to prove she was going to be the bestest new friend ever or something. But Willow, as far as Faith knew, didn't, and probably took Buffy's expression at her suggestion to mean she didn't want to go shopping with her unless Faith was coming too. B was getting her ass in for it, Faith bet, even if Red didn't actually tell her she was about to explode with jealousy.

Still, not Faith's problem. Getting out of what Cordelia had accurately called a doomed before it started shopping trip was, and she sped through the door with a hasty "Later," called over her shoulder, then jerked to a stop when Buffy yelled for her again, irritated.

"WHAT?"

"Are you at least going to patrol with me tonight?" Buffy asked, and Faith gritted her teeth, calling her response hastily over her shoulder.

"Yeah, whatever."

Even as she said it she realized that her pants weren't on fire…damn, did that mean she was under contract to follow through?

Even as she continued out the door and down the hall, Buffy managed to get in one more order. "Meet you at the cemetery at eight!"

Faith shook her head as she sped up her pace, practically running down the hall with the envelope clutched tightly in her hand. Maybe she had a lot of shit to work on, but she knew a little blonde who could use an angel to give her a lesson on taking no for an answer, among other things. Maybe she could give Earl a pointed suggestion. Fair was fair.


	22. 22

Chapter 22

"Let this old life crumble, let it fade.  
Let this new life offered be your saving grace.  
Let this old life crumble, let it fade, let it fade"

Jeremy Camp, "Let it Fade"

Faith Lehane was extremely pissed off.

She had walked over five miles to the Sunnydale mall from the high school- not that she was unaccustomed to walking almost everywhere that she had to go, or that she hated it, or couldn't have got a ride from someone if she'd asked or stuck out her thumb. The point was, she had walked all that way, and she had money in her pocket. A lot of money. Money she did intend to spend. She had it, and what had she got, from the moment she first made the mistake of setting foot in the first store of Sunnydale's mall?

Complete bullshit, that was what. The women behind the counters and standing in the aisles with their prissy, expensive clothes, all of them had cut their eyes at her, looking her up and down like she was just not RIGHT for their perfect little stores. Granted, maybe she wasn't wearing a collared blouse and "sensible" high heels, maybe she didn't LOOK rich, but she had five fucking hundred dollars in her pocket! How the hell did they think they just KNEW she couldn't afford their overpriced shit, just by looking at her? What, did she have to dress like BUFFY for someone to treat her like she was a person and customer and not a potential thief or delinquent?

She had seen the way they eyed her as she browsed, following her not so subtly with their eyes and often physically with their bodies, as if just hoping to catch her in the act of stealing. She had heard the tone of their voices when they pointedly asked if they could help her, clearly meaning by it "help her right out the door." By the third store and identical response, Faith's blood was boiling, every muscle taut with anger and resentment, and it was all she could do not to just sock them all in their upturned noses and throw money at them in piles, just to show she had it.

The mall trip hadn't lasted very long; she ended up buying nothing but a Coke slushie, and instead began a very rapid paced stride to Wal-Mart, despite the many extra miles from the mall that was, driven by her angered adrenaline. At least there, crap as their stuff might be, no one would look down their noses at her or speak to her like a criminal.

She had emerged from this considerably less judgmental, if not exactly stylish and exciting, store with several pairs of jeans, tanks, socks, bras, and other needed items, and more than half of the money Wesley had given her still safely tucked away. It wasn't until she started to tote her bags back towards Cordelia's, just as the sky was beginning to darken, that she remembered that first off, she didn't know how to get there from her current location, and second off, she had sort of told Buffy she would patrol with her, and if she didn't meet her when she had sort of said she would, she would lose another pair of pants.

"Think I've got that lesson down pretty well by now, Earl, you can stop any time now," Faith muttered aloud, but nevertheless, she changed directions, heading towards the cemetery Buffy most often chose to patrol with her in, Wal-Mart bags still in hand. How the hell she would explain them away without admitting she'd shopped without her was an issue she'd have to deal with when the time came- and she hoped B had an extra stake for her to borrow too, while she was at it.

As she finally came up on the cemetery entrance a good fifteen minutes after the sun had gone down, Faith could see the back of Buffy's blonde head where she stood with crossed arms, facing away from her with one hip cocked. Furtively Faith stashed her bags behind one of the nearest headstones, relieved to get out of having to explain that much, at least, and called out to Buffy as she headed over to her.

"Likin' the view, B? Hey, you got another stake on you?"

Buffy turned in surprise, eyes wide, and then smiled, retrieving an extra from her belt and tossing it towards her as Faith drew near.

"Slow on the action, unless you count the speed of the single squirrel I saw running by. And there was the impressive speed of some ants too, over by the mausoleum. Whatcha been doing, Faith?" she asked brightly, to the point that Faith almost wanted to cringe, looking at how hard she was trying. Was there no such thing as middle ground for these people?

"Stuff," she said vaguely, flipping the borrowed stake from hand to hand. If this was gonna be a recurring theme with Buffy from now on, this was gonna be a damn long night, all right. "So, uh, what's Mrs. S been up to, B? Still decked out in minis and living a life of crime and Giles-kissing?"

As she had hoped, that was the sort of statement needed to distract Buffy as she visibly flinched, her features expressing her disgust as she shook her head.

"Kissing Giles IS a life of crime, especially when you're related to me. Or old. Or young. Or female. Or male. Oh, ew, bad visuals, very bad, very scary visuals," Buffy babbled, eyes widening, and she put her fingers to her forehead as though to physically press them from her mind. "Very bad, very scary visuals that must go away. Now."

"Oh, come on, B, guy's kind of cute to be so old," Faith smirked, deliberately drawing out Buffy's discomfort to further distract her from any possible return to questioning her. "Plus, he and your mom are kinda hot together. Your mom's a pretty hot babe for a lady her age. I bet those two are WILD in bed."

Buffy's eyes bulged at that remark, and she looked panic-stricken, absolutely desperate to summon a new topic, not having to do with her mother's sex life. Apparently she couldn't entirely banish Joyce from her mind, however, because her next blurted sentence was still revolving around her.

"I told Mom you've gone to live with Cordelia!"

Immediately Faith's formerly relaxed, teasing posture stiffened, and she turned to completely face Buffy with narrowed eyes, her heart pounding unconsciously in response to the blonde's half defiant declaration. If Buffy had told her MOTHER about her, the woman who hadn't even realized her kid was a Slayer for two years, how many others knew- EVERYONE? Were they all watching her when she wasn't looking, pitying her, whispering about her? Did she have a sign across her forehead now that she hadn't noticed, stating that she was a loser who should either be ignored or pitied? She KNEW Buffy couldn't keep her mouth shut!

"Why?" she asked roughly, her jaw set, hands in fists at her side, and Buffy rushed to explain, her words considerably more awkward now.

"Oh, I didn't mean to! I mean, I just told her, and I didn't mean to! No one else knows! I think. I mean, I didn't tell them. And it wasn't like I TRIED to. She's just, well, she always asks about you, sometimes I think she likes you better than me, even. And she asked about you, and so I just, I sort of-"

"Blabbed all my shit and got a suggestion in return to be super-special-nice to me and invite me over to dinner every other day like a good girl? Feeding the hungry homeless?" Faith asked with a raised eyebrow and a sarcastic edge to her voice.

Buffy flushed, not meeting her eyes as her voice dropped.

"No…well, yeah…except it was more like a command," she mumbled sheepishly, but then added with her eyes widening earnestly, "But, but I was thinking about it anyway! Well, maybe not the dinner part- but, but in general, and, and I want you to come too!"

Yeah, damn well sounded like it.

"Don't do me any favors, B," Faith said with tight control, turning away from her as she pretended to intently scan the cemetery for attacks, her hand tightening considerably around the stake as she began to pace about, careful to keep her face turned so that Buffy couldn't see more than her profile. But Buffy followed her, stepping determinedly in the way as she tried again to meet her eyes.

"Faith, none of this is coming out right. Look…I do want it, for you to come over a few times a week. Maybe I didn't think of it, but I want it…I want…I want things to change." Her voice softened, and she took a step to her, looking at her with a slightly uncertain sincerity that made Faith swallow involuntarily, forced to shift her gaze away.

"I want us to do more together, like we did a couple of days ago. I mean, sure, there was the near criminal record part, but, you know, that worked itself out, and we don't always have to do that, right? Actually it's probably better if we never had it happen again…but the rest of it, that was fun. I'd like…I'd like more of that."

For a moment after Buffy's mention of their "near criminal record" Faith froze, a dying man's bloody chest and bulging eyes flickering into her thoughts. But then she realized that Buffy must have been referring to their arrest and subsequent escape and exhaled, breathing more easily.

Buffy undoubtedly meant what she was saying, at least in the moment- Faith wasn't questioning that. Or at least, Buffy thought she meant it. What Faith was wary of was why she meant it. Because like with Xander, whether or not they wanted and intended to follow through, Faith strongly suspected that her driving motivation was guilt.

Still…wasn't that what she'd wanted from the start, to have fun with Buffy, just the Chosen Two…hadn't it been a rush, before everything went wrong, to be out on the town, just them, taking on anything that was stupid enough to challenge them? Hadn't it been one of the best nights of her life, up until everything went to hell and a sadistic redneck angel came barging into her existence?

It had been. Faith knew it. So maybe it was possible to get it back…not likely, especially given Buffy's tendency to alternate between over involvement and complete oblivion…actually it was pretty close to impossible.

But Faith still wanted it. She still wanted it, and it was that fact as much as anything that would not allow her to fully lower her defenses in order to let Buffy see.

"Wouldn't us going out on the town every night cut into your snuggle time with Angel?" she asked somewhat defensively, and when Buffy flushed, quite obviously turning her face away and feigning absorption in something far off in the distance, Faith, amused, turned towards her. "What? You guys and your fated love going under or something?"

"No!" Buffy denied immediately, vehemently shaking her head, but she was walking away, still clearly trying to avoid Faith's eyes. "NO, Faith, we are NOT going under- or up- or down- or…uh…we aren't-"

"Oh so it's the no sex then," Faith assessed, chuckling, still idly twirling her stake between her fingers. As she'd predicted and hoped, Buffy spun on her heel to look at her, eyes wide with horrified denial met with guilty truth.

"NO! I mean- NO- well- we-" she stopped, pointing an indignant finger at Faith as she attempted to shift the subject. "Okay, why are you of all people getting on me about my sex life?"

"More like your lack of sex life," Faith snickered, shaking her head. She stretched her arms in front of her, rolling her shoulders and sneaking a glance down at herself just in case. Breasts intact- good, guess she was okay as long as it was just sex and Buffy, without her being involved in there somewhere, that she was talking about. "Not getting on you, B, I'm mostly emphasizing here, not getting any sucks." And lately, she damn well wasn't getting any either, thanks to Earl.

"Not everything is about sex, Faith, who says I even think about it?" Buffy attempted to say with dignity, lifting her chin.

Faith laughed out loud- who the hell did she think she was kidding?

"Bullshit, B, you're a Slayer. You're fuckin' DEAD if you don't feel it too. You probably go home, get in the shower, and do shit no one even wants to picture…actually, maybe we-" she started to say with a smirk, but then, catching herself just as the words were on the tip of her tongue, stopped, coughing instead to cover her strained expression. Shit, she'd been a quarter of a second from being a Boobless Betty again, and in front of BUFFY this time, who wouldn't fall for Jedi mind trick variations like Xander. She better damn well be more careful.

"Anyway, you sleeping with Angel just isn't the same as me sleeping with anyone, because I'm pretty sure any loser I pick is only normal evil, and not, like, end the world and drain people's blood evil," she went on quickly, hoping that Buffy hadn't noticed. "I don't know why the hell you even bother with the guy. Beside the whole undead thing, which is damn gross enough, the guy broods enough to make Marilyn Manson look cheerful, has the social skills of a snail, and yeah, he's hot, but what's the point if you can't screw? Not to mention he can't be happy, so that pretty much guarantees you can't be either. And you guys think I'm the one with the loose screws here…think about it, B, you really want to be celibate for the rest of your life?"

For a moment Buffy lifted her chin, anger alit in her expression, and Faith was sure she was going to snap at her, to get a fight going that would get ugly fast, if she didn't just outright clock her. But then Buffy's features softened, her shoulders slumped, and she turned her face away, her voice emerging quiet and much more vulnerable than Faith would have expected or quite knew how to deal with.

"No," she admitted, exhaling, and Faith frowned, stepping towards her instinctively in spite of herself.

"Then why are you still with him?"

When Buffy responded, she slid her eyes slowly towards her own, and the naked emotion that Faith saw in their surface, rarely shared between them, made her still, swallow hard, and wish strongly that she could look away from it, deny its existence.

"Because I love him," Buffy said, the words small, young, and Faith could think of nothing to say, had no idea what to do.

Love…it felt so good, so safe, so RIGHT when you had it…and the deepest, most crushing pain possible when it was taken away. It was Faith's view now that if you couldn't be sure you could keep love safe, embed it so deeply around your heart that no one could ever rip it from you without killing you first, then it was better never to let it into your life at all. It was better to not have something at all then to feel the pain of having it taken away.

But she had loved, once. She knew what it felt like, to hurt as it seemed that Buffy was hurting now. But that didn't mean she knew what the hell she was supposed to say or do, if she should do anything at all.

"Well…guess it sucks to be you then," she muttered uncomfortably, then glanced to her right deliberately, gesturing with her stake. "Damn, there is seriously ZERO vamp action out here tonight, what is with that?"

"Good, because the only wooden object I have on me is a pencil, and I SO do not want dust spreading all over my outfit, I've ruined too many as it is doing your stupid Slayer stuff," called out a sardonic voice from behind them, and as both Slayers turned quickly, they saw Cordelia striding towards them, picking her way through the headstones gingerly as she rolled her eyes, an irritated look on her face that was clear even from the distance. "That stuff doesn't come out with dry cleaning, you know."

Although she was grateful for the distraction from Buffy and her FEELINGS, Cordelia's presence left Faith with a question, one she didn't hesitate to ask her.

"Uh, what the hell are you doing here, Cor?"

"Well I'm not about to sit alone in my car waiting on you so a vampire can come up and attack me. If I have to wait on you losers, then it's better to do it where you're close enough to distract them from me," Cordelia asserted, hands on her hips- an answer that raised more questions than it answered. When Faith and Buffy exchanged faint, confused frowns, Cordelia huffed, rolling her eyes, and shifted her weight to her other hip.

"What, you think I WANT to wait on you? Unlike you two, I have a social life that includes friends who aren't total dorks or freaks, and I had other options than coming out to play Shove the Stake Through the Disgusting Bloodsucker tonight. However, FAITH here not only doesn't know the code to get into my gate, but also undoubtedly has no idea how to enter it into the system, would end up breaking it to force the gate open, and send the entire Sunnydale police force over to come searching our house for burglars at whatever friggin' late hour she decides to stumble home. If she even remembers or is sober enough to get there at all. Thanks but no thanks, I'd rather not have my house raided at four in the morning," Cordelia snapped before shifting her eyes to Buffy, including her now as well. "So hurry up with this slay thing, because some of us are ready to go home."

The other girls blinked, looking from each other to Cordelia back to each other again, taken aback. Cordelia had showed up to drive Faith home? Even with her long winded disclaimer, Faith couldn't deny that it was a thoughtful gesture. That Cordelia had thought of her at all, past being directly confronted with her existence, was surprising…and this, it was the second time she had taken a fairly significant step to help her in some way.

With the others, Faith understood their reasons…with Cordelia, she had no clue, other than what she said, and maybe that was exactly what she meant. Which would be a first for her experience so far with people in general.

"So…you're saying you want to hang around here until we're done, so you can take me home and let me in," Faith clarified, and Cordelia rolled her eyes again, shaking her head and sighing in exaggerated exasperation.

"What I SAID was I HAVE to take you home if I want to sleep through the night without cops digging through my underwear drawer, I didn't say I WANTED to," she corrected, tossing back her hair over her shoulders. "I didn't say I was- hey, aren't you going to slay that already?"

As soon as she said it, Faith, her eyes moving to follow the direction of Cordelia's gaze, saw it- the vampire, entirely clad in black, who had just vaulted over the cemetery gate and was making his way behind Buffy. As she shouted a warning, drawing her stake, and Buffy pivoted, slamming a fist into his face and beginning to block his blows, another vampire dropped over the fence as well, just a few feet away from where the first had appeared.

"Stay there!" Faith yelled at Cordelia, who, from the disgusted yet clearly apprehensive look on her face, didn't need to be told twice. As Faith took off to meet him head on, she noticed out of her peripheral vision that there was a third vampire, also jumping the fence to her left, and a fourth a few feet from him…shit, what the hell was this? Since when did vamps break INTO a cemetery instead of OUT of it anyway?

As Faith headed off the second vampire, meeting him with a sharp kick to the head and then twisting her body with it to create extra force to send him to the ground, where she could more easily stake him, she saw Buffy finish off her vampire to her right. But there were two more vampires running up, both momentarily ignoring Cordelia, who was yelling something Faith wasn't listening to, a wooden cross thrust in front of her. When Faith quickly staked the vampire she had pinned beneath her, taking the time to get in several punches first, it was like her action was some kind of signal. Because as the second vampire scattered into the night and the other two split, each heading for a different Slayer without so much as taking the time for corny banter like they usually might, there were five more vampires all vaulting the fence at once in all directions, completely surrounding them on all sides.

Oh holy shit she was glad she hadn't skipped patrol and left Buffy to deal with this alone…but what the hell WAS this? This wasn't random vampires, newly turned…this was an organized attack. This was an ambush.

There was no time to think about how, why, or who was behind it.

"Cordy, get out your pencil!" Faith heard Buffy yell, and she would have laughed, especially when she caught a glimpse of Cordelia digging frantically through her purse while struggling to also hold up a good-sized wooden cross that she had retrieved from it. But though it might sound humorous, they all knew Buffy was dead serious- in this kind of situation, especially for a normal human girl, a pencil could mean the difference between life and death.

There were seven vampires there in all- no, six, as Buffy's stake slammed home into the first to approach her. Three for her, three for B. Normally Faith wouldn't be too worried- but now with Cordelia there, lots of distraction for both Slayers and vamps and not much potential to help in a fight, the odds were skewed.

There was no time to form a plan, or even to try to work together with Buffy. There were too many vampires and not enough time for that. Even as the six split, three going for each Slayer, another two were joining from within the cemetery grounds- though the newcomers looked like curious and eager tagalongs rather than part of the original set. Either way, Buffy soon was surrounded by three vampires, Faith by four, and even Cordelia , regardless of her outstretched cross, was approached by one as well.

From that point on all Faith could do was focus on lashing out however she could with her fists and feet, her hair flying about her face, heart pounding wildly in her chest as she struggled to beat them down, to have enough range of motion to get in a dusting blow. She could see Buffy struggling out the corner of her eye, and as she turned sharply to her left, managing to get in a harsh elbow to the face of the vampire latching onto her there, Faith saw Cordelia, with a jerky, squeamish, yet also pissed off thrust, jab her pencil into the approaching vampire near her's heart. For a moment Faith was distracted enough to smirk- girl had more guts, or at least sharp instincts, than she would have thought.

That moment was enough to give the three vampires surrounding her enough leverage to gain the upper hand. As two of them seized her upper arms, holding them down with brutal strength to keep her from hitting out at them, the third leered without words before her, savoring the moment, yellow eyes aglow with anticipation. Faith struggled frantically, twisting herself under their grasp, involuntary grunts of pain and frustration escaping her as her heartbeat sped considerably. She could feel her left shoulder beginning to pull from its socket…and as the vampire drew closer to her throat, fangs bared, her mind flashed back to another vampire so close, his hand crushing her wrist as he held her against the wall, of an older woman's dying breaths rattling in her chest…

Faith's eyes had closed, and therefore she did not see the vampire disintegrate before her, but merely felt the pressure and proximity of him suddenly gone, a stir of breeze from his evaporated dust particles briefly move her hair. She opened her eyes hurriedly, somewhat dazed, expecting to see Buffy…but it was Cordelia who stood before her, pencil tightly gripped in her fist, chin lifted in determination and aggression, even as fear shone in her gaze. For a second their eyes met…and then, as Faith gave a renewed twist and managed to extract herself from the vampires' grasps, she snatched Cordy's pencil from her, having dropped her stake, and slammed it into their chests in rapid sequence.

A few moments later Buffy too had staked the last of hers, and turned hurriedly towards them, starting to make her way to them. From a distance Faith saw the shiner forming on her cheek, that her lip was split and bleeding, and her own ribs ached, her left shoulder throbbing with enough sharp stabs of pain that she knew it was in fact dislocated.

"Hey- you guys okay?" Buffy called, reaching their sides and peering between them with concern and some anxiety.

Faith nodded, turning her shoulder towards her and moving Buffy's hand to rest on it with her good arm.

"Yeah, I'm- shit, I wasn't FINISHED, I was gonna say I'm not DYING," she said with indignation when her pants began to warm, then returned to normal temperature after her words. "B, hold my shoulder a sec, let me shove it back."

As Faith braced herself against Buffy's hand, pushing hard against it to pop herself back into place with another grunt of effort and pain, she noticed the figure at the cemetery entrance, stepping into view. It was a black male in an expensive long sleeved dress shirt and a silk tie, black shoes well polished even in the dust of the cemetery ground. He was smiling, hands clasped behind his back as he stood in the entranceway, and though he made no attack or threatening gesture, Faith froze, fear and dread souring her mouth.

This was one of the vampires that had been with Kakistos the night she killed him…the one he had called Trick. This had been one of the vampires who fed off her weakened Watcher, as Faith could do nothing but watch…this had been one of the vampires who killed her.

"Rough start, ladies, but that was one silky smooth finish," Trick drawled, still giving off a smile that was more like a leer as his eyes drifted leisurely between them. "You Slayer types just aren't gonna make this an easy ride, are you? And what with THIS gal turning up like a shiny new penny every time it's supposed to be a Slayer-only show down…" he added, nodding towards Cordelia and giving a chuckle as he shook his head, smiling ruefully. "You girls DO have the lives of one very lucky feline. But don't worry- I love a good challenge."

"Challenge this," Buffy retorted, and she grabbed the oversized cross from Cordelia, hurling it at Trick like a javelin and impaling him in the stomach. As Trick's smile vanished, his features vamping out as he snarled not only from the pain of the wound but also prolonged contact with a cross, he started to back away, tearing the cross out and throwing it away from him, hissing in fury as blisters lashed across his hand at the contact.

"Consider this another reprieve, Slayers…but even the luckiest of kitties eventually run out of lives," he hissed as he started to back away. "You can't land on your feet if you get gobbled up in midair."

With that he disappeared into the darkness beyond the cemetery grounds, and for several moments the girls stood in silence, the totality of what had just occurred sinking in. Faith swallowed repeatedly, trying to even out her breaths, to force away the vivid memories still flitting through her mind, the internal vocalization of suffering she could not yet thrust aside.

It was Cordelia that ultimately was able to do so for her, with her penchant at allowing no time to lapse for dwelling on the past.

"If you think I'm standing here for another minute to let that happen all over again, you're both total whack jobs," she informed them, hands on her hips as she looked between them. "But since that's already true, I guess I'll cut to the chase. Patrol's over, I'm going home, you're coming with me, and I'm driving. Faith, get the Wal-Mart crap you left by the gate, put it in the trunk. If anyone sees me with those bags in my car, I might never be able to hold up my head in public. It's bad enough I'm letting you two sit in it."

Buffy being Buffy, it was not Trick's presence, that of the eight vampires who had carried out an organized attack of sorts, or the threat he had left with, but rather the most trivial aspect of the night thus far that she zeroed in on as they began to trudge back towards Cordelia's car without protest.

"You went to Wal-Mart without me?" she asked Faith in a hurt tone, her brow furrowing, and though in most times the question would cause Faith to grit her teeth in frustration, at that time it was so typical Buffy that she instead laughed out loud.


	23. 23

Chapter 23

"Have you been standing on your own feet too long?  
Have you been looking for a place where you belong?  
You can rest, you will find rest.  
You can rest, you will find rest"

Jeremy Camp, "Let it fade"

Faith was more than a little grateful when Cordelia dropped Buffy off. The two had bickered continually until the moment Cordelia had pulled into her driveway, about what, exactly, Faith didn't know, as she had been incapable of listening. Instead she had leaned back in her seat in silence, replaying the scenario of Trick's appearance in her head. She was NOT afraid- she had killed Kakistos, after all, what was one of his runaway minions?

But just seeing Trick…remembering him standing in her motel doorway, yellow eyes glinting viciously…remembering his hands on Diana, her Watcher, his fangs piercing her skin…just seeing him brought back in bursts of mental visualizations that Faith had no control over, images that she had previously managed to lock away deep insider herself, where she would no longer have to think or remember- or at least could tell herself she didn't. Now the entire ride to Buffy's house, Faith was almost entirely silent, fighting to force her own thoughts, her own memories back buried inside herself where they belonged…fighting not to feel the increasing fear, grief, and rage that battled fiercely within her to emerge in full force.

As Cordelia pulled into Buffy's driveway and the blonde got out, she called over her shoulder a reminder for Faith to come over for dinner the next night, an invitation Faith didn't really acknowledge. As Cordelia backed out of Buffy's driveway, Faith remained silent, and to her surprise, so did Cordelia, who had until this point been sniping back and forth with Buffy constantly. Still, Faith was barely aware of the quiet, or even her general surroundings; she was too caught up in her own thoughts, or rather her attempts to suppress them.

It was pretty hard not to take notice, however, when Cordelia pulled over into the first empty parking lot she saw beyond Buffy's neighborhood, put her car into park, shut off the engine, and turned to face her with such determination in her expression that Faith knew immediately she would not have an easy time averting her focus.

"Okay, why are you being so freakishly quiet?" she demanded, her eyes narrowed slightly, and Faith shrugged, her mind clicking rapidly through all possible responses before voting no response as the safest response. She couldn't say shit she shouldn't or get her ass blasted for just shrugging, right?

Why was Cordelia asking anyway- pulling OVER to ask, no less? What the hell did she care? Since when did she care if other people said anything as long as they gave her lots of conversational space to run her own mouth?

"You're thinking SOMETHING," Cordelia accused, still watching her closely, suspiciously, and Faith shrugged again.

"People with working brain cells usually are, Cor. You might not know that, what with your group of friends and all, but that's usually how it works with people."

"You know what I mean, smartass," Cordelia rolled her eyes, exhaling impatiently. "WHAT are you thinking, with those awesome "working brain cells" of yours, to make you go all Miss I Have a Mouth But I Forgot How It Works?"

"You've really got a thing for giving people names that are three sentences long, don't you?" Faith replied defensively, crossing her arms and lifting her chin. One good thing about Cordelia trying to shake out of her what she was thinking, it stopped her from actually thinking it and instead made her think about what a pain in the ass Cordelia was being. "First off, what the hell do you care, and second off, how the hell is it your business?"

At this challenge, Cordelia eyed Faith for several moments, eyes narrowed further, jaw tensed, as if she were assessing her words and finding them to be far from what she desired. But then she shook her head, rolled her eyes, and exhaled loudly, renewing her focus on her with a shifted determination, her tone leaving little room for denial.

"Okay, fine. Maybe it's not. But the fire ass thing, that totally is, because if you burst into flames in your sleep, it's MY house that burns down. So THAT, you're gonna tell me tonight. Right now."

Faith stared at her, disbelieving. This could not be happening. Cordelia, who notoriously was only interested in herself, was INSISTING upon knowing something about HER? Granted, it was in her own benefit, if she thought her freakin' palace was in danger or something…but still. Was this Earl again?

"I told you I couldn't, and I wasn't just talking to hear myself, like some people," she asserted, her voice tensing noticeably, taking on a snappy, defensive edge. "So how the hell you figure you can make me?"

"I'm not driving you back until you do," Cordelia leveled, eyebrows raised, crossing her arms and leaning against the driver's door with clear self-assurance in this plan. "Kinda hard to get back to my place and all your stuff if I won't take you."

Faith almost laughed at that; was that the worst she could threaten her with?

"So I walk," she snorted, rolling her eyes and half smirking in response. "Whoop dee friggin' doo. Some of us, Queen C, are used to not being toted by limo everywhere we go."

"Oh yeah?" Cordelia shot back, more than ready for this response, eyebrows lifting further. "Walk, huh? You mean like you actually know how to get there? And like once you finally do slink your way up to the gates around six am or so, after all the vampires beat your busted ass to the ground, if they don't just drain your ass dry first, you'll not only not know the code to get in, but also how to punch it right in?"

Shit…the girl had her there, dammit.

"I could walk back to Buffy's and stay the night," Faith retorted, but even as she said it her mind recoiled from the thought.

She didn't even want to think about the bombardment of questions and concern from the Summers women, BOTH of them, if she randomly showed up with nothing but a few Wal-Mart bags in hand asking to stay the night. The mental image was so horrifying Faith actually cringed, and Cordelia smirked, no doubt following her train of thought without her needing to say a word.

"Yeah, you let me know how a night of borrowing pjs from Princess Pastels works out for you then." But then her smirk dropped, and she looked at Faith seriously, speaking more quietly and with some intensity so that Faith, uncomfortable, shifted her eyes away from her steady gaze.

"Look…I didn't tell anyone about what happened…TWICE, I might add. But I do think I should know why it is that I'm not, and what the hell is going on if I'm going to keep not talking. Plus, kind of saved your Slayer ass tonight. You owe me, Faith."

Her words were direct, honest…and uncomfortably holding a logic that Faith couldn't deny. No, it wasn't exactly fair of her to expect Cordelia to cover for her when she didn't know why or what she was doing…when they weren't even friends. Of course, it wasn't fair to expect her to give her a place to stay or a ride home or to save HER instead of vice versa, even when she HAD, either…

Shit…Queen C was right. Faith did owe her. How the hell had she let this happen?

She tried to think of a way to ease out of it, some way she could easily let herself off the hook with no strings attached, but came up empty…she was going to have to tell her. When it came down to it Faith wasn't sure how she thought, short of skipping town, that she'd be able to hide it from every single person she interacted with forever, especially with their newfound interest in her. And when it came down to it, who knows? Maybe Cordy could help cover for her. Fat chance, but she had to hope this wouldn't be complete bullshit. And she had kept her mouth shut so far…

There was no good way to say it, so the only way to go, Faith decided, was to just lay it out there, straightforward as possible. Exhaling through gritted teeth, crossing her arms over her chest as though bracing herself for Cordy's reaction even as she lifted her chin defiantly, Faith went for the direct approach.

"I have a guardian angel," she said stiffly, her eyes narrowed as she closely watched Cordelia's face. "When I tell a lie, he sets my pants on fire. Real friggin' hilarious, huh?"

Cordelia did not appear to find it so. In fact, she seemed to be having trouble comprehending what she had just heard. She blinked several times, her lips parting, and then narrowed her eyes in an unconscious imitation of Faith's expression as she stared back at her, delaying her judgment on her words.

"EXCUSE me?" she said with great emphasis, still staring at Faith; normally Faith would have noted with some amazement that she hadn't thought Cordelia even knew HOW to ask other people to excuse her, but the way Cordelia was looking at her, clearly not intending to let go until she had a more thorough explanation, kind of took away from that minor miracle.

"You know," Faith shrugged, exhaling loudly again and letting her eyes finally shift away, her shoulders slumping slightly, as if bored by the topic, even as she watched Cordelia closely out the corner of her eye. "Liar liar, pants on fire. Hardy har har, friggin' angel has a hysterical sense of humor."

"ANGEL is setting your pants on fire?" Cordelia repeated with heavy disbelief, her eyebrows lifting almost to her hairline.

Faith had to snicker at that, shaking her head. "No! And ANGEL doesn't even have a LAME sense of humor, in case you were wondering, think they removed his funny bone when they took away his life, or whatever. No, AN angel. My friggin' guardian angel."

This didn't seem to have cleared things up for Cordelia very much; she was still looking at Faith like she'd told her she had her own personal Santa Claus…which, come to think of it, if friggin' angels were real, maybe there was something to that Santa thing and he just hated her guts. Wouldn't be much of a surprise.

Hell, nothing should be for Sunnydale residents. But somehow, this was different. Tell Cor a demon had cast a spell on her and she'd accept it without blinking- hell, Faith would find that easier to accept too. But a freakin' guardian angel? In the context of Sunnydale, it was things claiming to be good and holy that were unbelievable.

Faith almost hoped Earl WAS evil. It would mean next time he pissed her off she could kill him. But she knew better. even now, even when he pissed her off so bad she literally wanted to tear him limb to limb, she couldn't forget the powerful peace, the amazing RIGHTNESS she had felt all too briefly in the circle of his wings. He was the real thing, against all odds, even if he liked his mind games.

But she couldn't blame Cordy for having a hard time believing.

"YOU have a guardian angel," Cordelia repeated, her mouth twisted incredulously.

Faith let out another loud, irritated breath, rolling her eyes, and nodded somewhat begrudgingly. How many times would it take for it to sink in?

"Yeah, unfortunately. Hey, you asked, Queen C, all I'm doing is answering."

"You're telling me we all have guardian angels?" Cordelia tried another angle, and Faith had to consider this briefly before forming an answer.

"No, just me, I'm pretty sure, unless no one else's angel gets a kick out of public humiliation like mine does. But far as I know, it's just me. Well, me and all the other screwed up girls with virtue names," she added in a mutter, remembering Earl's talk about his former charge, Grace.

"WHY?" Cordelia asked forcefully, her tone, expression, and posture managing to display varying emotions in equal measures simultaneously.

Faith looked at her with a faint frown, tensing. Earl was so beyond dead for making her go through with this…well, okay, he already WAS dead, but she'd find a way to make him pay somehow. She felt like something was trying to crawl out from under her skin, even as she continued to feign total nonchalance.

"Why what? Why do I have one, or why does he set me on fire when he feels like it?"

"Well, BOTH," Cordelia rolled her eyes, huffing slightly, before refocusing her gaze onto Faith with a degree of focus that sort of surprised her…when the girl wanted to, she could really zero in on you. "What the hell is going on?"

For a few seconds Faith thought about that night in the alley, the memory of the dying man beneath her stake, unknown now to all but herself and Earl. For a few moments the words were on the tip of her tongue, almost spoken aloud, and thus somehow more fully real, for the first time since its erasing.

But when it came down to it…she couldn't do it. Not now…probably never.

"He wants me to quit all my SINS," she muttered, putting heavy sarcastic emphasis on the word and turning her head slightly, not looking into Cordelia's face. "He wants me to turn into some good little Bible-thumping Christian girl or something. So if I don't' follow his rule for the day, he lets me damn well know it."

For a while Faith was pretty well convinced that Cordelia simply would not believe her, that she had not accepted any of what she was saying as true. But then, the disbelief on her face evaporated abruptly and she began to laugh. Not in a snide, gossipy manner, in a flirty giggle, or a superior snicker, the only ways Faith had ever heard her laugh before…but in a genuine, full blown burst of laughter of pure mirth.

Faith didn't see the humor, and she damn well resented that Cordelia did. She could feel her face reddening, to her further fury, her hands knotting into fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palms, and as Cordelia continued to laugh, it was all she could do to keep from punching her in the face.

"It's not fucking funny," she growled, jaw tensed considerably, and Cordelia snorted, shaking her head in clear disagreement.

"Wrong, it's pretty much hilarious…an angel? YOU, with an angel…who sets your clothes on fire?" she broke up all over again as Faith glared even more fiercely, feeling her back teeth grind together unconsciously.

"It's NOT, it's a fucking fucked up pain in the ass," she snapped, her voice rising, but Cordelia, unconvinced, shook her head, still giggling, smiling more broadly than Faith could ever remember seeing her do before. Figures her dilemma of agony and embarrassment would be what got the girl off.

"What does he do when you swear like that, burn your tongue?" Cordelia snickered, still shaking her head, and Faith snapped hurriedly, jaw jutting forward.

"NO! He doesn't do SHIT when I swear…okay, FINE, except the one time he made my mouth disappear, but that was only once!" Faith clarified irritably when her pants warmed with an all too maddeningly familiar timing, digging her nails harder into her palm in frustration.

At that statement, Cordelia's laughter renewed in pitch and intensity to the point that she doubled over, actually growing teary-eyed with hilarity. Watching her, her defensiveness and embarrassment tightening around her heart, Faith, her throat choking, abruptly turned her face away, reaching for the door handle on the passenger side to let herself out. She didn't care anymore about Buffy or vampires or where to stay if she didn't go home with Cordelia, she didn't give a shit, but fuck if she was going to sit there and get laughed at all night by Cordelia fucking Chase!

But as she opened the door, stepping one foot out, Cordelia straightened suddenly, her laughter cutting off, and grabbed her arm, her grip stronger and firmer than Faith would have expected. As Faith tensed, turning her glare back in her direction and starting to jerk her arm away, Cordelia didn't let go, her expression composed, even serious now, even if her tone remained somewhat sarcastic and Cordy-esque.

"Oh please, don't be so sensitive. You really think you wouldn't laugh if I told you I had a guardian angel who set MY ass on fire every time he thought I stepped out of line? It's funny, and you'd be rolling on the floor if it was happening to me or BUFFY instead of you. Get back in the car already."

She had a point…if she thought about it like that, most people WOULD think it was pretty funny. Still, she didn't want to be fucking LAUGHED at, she was sick of being everyone's joke, the one they all looked down on. It WASN'T funny.

When Faith didn't move, Cordelia rolled her eyes, then tugged at her arm impatiently.

"God, I'm done laughing, okay, so just get in already. If you're really such a badass, what do you care what I think anyway?"

Faith had a ready retort at the tip of her tongue that she DIDN'T care, that Cordelia was the last person she would ever care what she thought. But even as she opened her mouth, she stopped, just before the words were poised to fall. Because honestly, she wasn't sure if they were true…and she wasn't yet sure if she wanted to discover, via her pants, if they were not.

She stayed poised for a few more moments, half in and half out of the car, before pulling her leg back in abruptly and slamming the door shut. What the hell….this was bullshit, but she wasn't going to run like she was AFRAID or something. Because she WASN'T. She wasn't.

Cordelia had been eyeing her sharply, her gaze intensifying, and when Faith returned fully to the car, crossing her arms and staring straight ahead with continued wariness, she tried to gain more information as directly as ever, but in a slightly more subdued fashion.

"So you have this pious yet total hardass angel on you 24/7, riding you to, what, stop all the evil sinning?"

"He only WISHES he were riding me, I bet," Faith muttered, rolling her eyes…and then promptly realized the mistake of her comment when she heard Cordelia gasp and looked up to see her staring at her chest, eyes wide. One glance down confirmed it- Earl had taken her breasts yet again.

This was getting way old…next time she saw him, she had more than a few things she wanted to set him straight on.

"What the hell is THAT?" Cordelia blurted, still gawking at Faith's chest, or rather lack thereof, her voice rising. "Either your breast implants are made of helium and just deflated in a major way, or you just had a spontaneous double mastectomy, but your boobs are GONE!"

"I got the memo, thanks," Faith muttered, crossing her arms again defensively in an effort to partly shield herself from Cordelia's stare and sighing with frustration that was more resentful than actively pissed now. "It's another of his stupid tricks…trust me, Earl, I SO don't fucking want you," she said more loudly, lifting her eyes upward. "I get the point, you can put them back any time now!"

"Your angel's name is EARL?" Cordelia cut off any further remark she could make, her lips twitching dangerously.

But at this, even Faith could see the ridiculousness of the facts, and her lips curved as well into a partial smirk, partial smile. This was all pretty unbelievable, even for the likes of Sunnydale.

"Yep…and he chews tobacco, drinks Mountain Dew, wears flannel shirts, has long hair, looks old, and talks like a friggin' redneck. Guess I got a sucky roll of the angel dice."

Cordelia shook her head, her smirk deepening as she leaned further back against her seat. "Only a Slayer," she muttered, still shaking her head, and Faith corrected her.

"No, only ME. You don't see anyone following BUFFY around zapping her ass and boobs if she doesn't mind her Ps and Qs…or maybe she does, she IS pretty tiny," Faith smirked, which made Cordelia snort out loud.

"Buffy's probably the one who sicced this EARL on you," she remarked. "She's probably trying to straighten you out, get you more to her Buffy Summers LIKING."

Something insinuative about her tone made Faith look over at her sharply, her brow furrowing with wary unease. "What the hell is THAT supposed to mean?"

Cordelia shook her head, still smirking, and rolled her eyes briefly upward as she stretched her arms in front of her.

"You're not good with putting the pieces together unless someone spells things out for you, are you?" she asked rhetorically. "No wonder this Earl guy has to resort to dramatics."

She turned to face the front fully and started up her car, beginning to drive back towards her house at last, and Faith attempted to puzzle out what in the world she was talking about. In the end, she came up with nothing. Maybe the girl was just whacked. Why else would she need something spelled out?

"You think Buffy sent Earl?" she tried, glancing over at Cordelia, but the other girl just kept smirking, shaking her head.

"Like I said, not so good at connect the dots."

"Oh, whatever, like you've really got such great insight or whatever," Faith shot back, slumping down in her seat, but even as she feigned apathy, her mind was going on overdrive trying to figure out what the hell she was going on about.

It wasn't until they were approaching Cordelia's bock before another concern occurred to her, and Faith sat up straight, turning to face Cordelia with her tone hardening considerably.

"You run your mouth about Earl and his stupid games, ESPECIALLY to Buffy, and I'll tell every you kiss Xander's picture and sleep every night with a teddy bear wrapped in one of his shirts."

Cordelia's head whipped around immediately, to the degree that they swerved dangerously on the road, and her voice was as acerbic as ever, but Faith had seen the brief panic in her eyes before they narrowed and knew she had her good. Even if it was made up…or was it?

"Like I even WANT to talk to them, Miss I Would Be Bad But My Redneck Angel Holds Me Back! Just get your stupid bags out of the trunk before someone sees them. Or you."

As they pulled up to Cordelia's gate, Faith smiled. Looks like they had an understanding.


	24. 24

Chapter 24

"It's now that I feel

Your grace fall like rain

From every fingertip

Washing away my pain"

"I still believe," Jeremy Camp

Note: This chapter is so super long it may need to be three chapters. It may seem slow and talky, but it's pretty important to the development of the story so hang in there. Also, thanks to Ltlconf for basically laying out the idea for the next few chapters.

As Faith had retreated into the pool house, letting her bags drop to the floor of her bedroom for the moment without yet bothering to take the time to put anything up, she had half expected to find Earl lounging around somewhere waiting for her, smirking, maybe gulping down another Mountain Dew, or chewing on a chicken leg or something. Not that she had chicken legs lying around, or that she would have a clue how to make them or anything. But for a guy who was dead and didn't exactly need actual nourishment, he seemed to enjoy doing all that human stuff anyway.

She still expected him to pop up even as she stripped out of her dirt-streaked clothes and took time to check out the status of her sore ribs and formerly dislocated shoulder, finding her ribs to be tender and bruised but unbroken, and her shoulder to only ache dully. It was nothing a long hot shower and a good night's sleep couldn't fix. But even as she slipped into one of her new tanks and a pair of snug gray boi shorts, nixing the shower idea in favor of food, Faith found as he headed back towards her kitchen area that Earl had still not showed up.

It wasn't like she WANTED him to. In fact, Faith would greatly prefer he leave her the hell alone tonight and give her space, even if she did have a LOT of shit she wanted to say to him. But usually Earl did come to her at least once at some point in the day, normally when least convenient and expected, and especially today, after so much had happened, she would expect him to put his two cents in. If he had to come, she preferred he do it then, when she was alone and had nothing much else to do, than, like, next time she tried to sleep with someone, or when she was getting her own self off if she couldn't do that, or when she was sleeping. The last two which she wanted, and soon, if he didn't get his ass over and be done with it fast.

But Earl didn't appear, and Faith started to make herself a few sandwiches, trying to focus on her individual movements, her approaching "alone time" and sleeping, and forgetting everything else. But as she sat down to eat, her legs jogged beneath the table with steady tense rhythm, and she could barely taste the food in her mouth, let alone focus on it solely. So much shit going on today…way too much to think about, way too much to even try to keep straight. Better not to think about it at all, any of it. Better not to think.

But Faith couldn't stop.

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She had the nightmare again; she usually expected it, at least a couple of times a week. But this time was different. This time, it was worse.

She was back in the warehouse, all the lights dimmed low, her clothes torn, hanging, streaked with blood and fear-induced sweat. Her chest was heaving, her breath coming in shallow pants no matter how often she swallowed, her vision blurred with tears- but not enough so she couldn't make out the leering features of the vampire pinning her against the wall, the same vampire who had just moments ago ordered and participated in the murder of her Watcher.

The worst of the worst, they called him, so ancient and evil he no longer was able to shift to human features. The worst of the worst…Kakistos.

Her shoulder screamed with pain, dangling uselessly where he had yanked it from its socket, and his clawed hand tightened around it, only amplifying her pain and nearly paralyzing her from being able to struggle to break away. His other hand squeezed her left breast, digging in its claws as he used his body to keep her pinned against the wall, his grin widening as he felt her heartbeat gallop wildly beneath his claws.

Kakistos opened his mouth, fangs bared to bite…but then the dream shifted, taking on an aspect it never had before, as his face began to change, softening into the hazy, indistinct features of a human man from a memory of long before, features that Faith nevertheless recognized and felt chilled to the core of her to see.

"Shh," he whispered, his hand on her breast loosening, almost a caress. "It only hurts for a second…"

As Faith opened her mouth, trying to scream, to fight back, she could not move, and no words would emerge. Out the corner of her eye she saw Diana's limp form, broken and blood streaked, her former Watcher's eyes open and yet sightless in death…and then this too was shifting so it was another's dead eyes meeting hers, not her Watcher, but a man. It was the man from the alley…the man she had killed.

They held her gaze, somehow both existing within the same pair of eyes, and as Faith's apology, her pleas for forgiveness, stuck in her throat, she heard the hazy human whisper once more into her ear.

"You know you want this, little girl…"

888888888888888

She awakened with a sharp spasm that did not entirely stop when her eyes snapped open, but instead gave way to violent shivering beyond her control. Faith's sheets were damp with sweat; she could feel her hair sticking to the back of her neck and her cheeks, her tank clinging to her skin, and something between a sob and a scream was choking her, not quite able to emerge from her throat. For several moments she only swallowed frantically, eyes open wide and unblinking in her effort to force back the tears she could feel burning at their surface, threatening to escape, and clutched her sheets around herself, trying to bring herself warmth and ease her shaking. But even as her shivering ceased and the brief threat of tears lessened, the incoherent rush of visuals still remained in her mind's eye, and she could not stand to remain still and observe them for a second longer.

Getting to her feet somewhat unsteadily, but quickly maintaining balance, Faith fumbled for the top drawer of her nightstand, closing her palm around the lighter and pack of cigarettes she found inside. She didn't look in the mirror as she quickly stumbled from the room, not wanting to see her tangled, sweat-dampened hair or her darkly smudged makeup, the emotions no doubt easily identifiable in her expression. She did, however, see a glimpse of her digital clock just before she left the doorway, and somewhat distantly noted that it was three am.

It being springtime, the night air was cool as Faith made her way to the Chases' poolside, beginning to pace around its perimeter as she lit her cigarette with slightly shaking hands. Though she was still clad only in her tank and boi shorts, she was not cold, however; in fact, the cool air felt good against her flushed skin, soothing in a manner she had no words or thoughts for. As Faith inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in her lungs, she paced a few more laps around the pool before sinking down onto one of the reclining beach chairs nearby, posture slumped as she finished off her first cigarette rapidly, stubbed the butt out on the concrete, and lit her second. Yeah, Cor would bitch at her for smoking, but this had been one long fucking day, and Faith honestly didn't give a shit at the moment.

Way too much going on, way too fucking much…more ass flaming, the added boob thievery, talks and training with Giles, the talks with Xander, Buffy, AND Cordy, the asshole salespeople, the thing at the cemetery with Trick, and now this on top of it all, not even like before, where she at least knew what to expect, but ADDED shit, it was all too much. Too fucking much, and if Cordy was going to try to keep her from having a few damn cigarettes right now, Faith might not be able to control her reaction.

She sat, smoking in silence, for several minutes, gradually able to appreciate more fully the impact of the nicotine flowing through her, gradually bring her a greater sense of calm physically if not mentally. As her pulse slowed nearly to a normal rate, her thoughts lessened in number and intensity as well, until Faith felt something approaching numbness. She greatly preferred this to most strong emotions. It wasn't quite blankness, not entirely, for there was a difference between blank nothingness and hollow emptiness, the difference between harboring no pain and harboring pain that was felt only dully, if at all. Unconsciously Faith knew this difference, and vaguely resented that she could not have her preference of truly feeling nothing at all. But if emptiness was the best she could hope for, then it would have to be enough…it was certainly better than a barrage of thought.

The noise behind her was soft, barely more than a click, and Faith ignored it but tensed slightly, alert, until she heard quiet footsteps, nearly soundless against the concrete ground surrounding the pool. Before she turned Faith knew already, with no real logic of why, who would be standing behind her, several feet away by the pool's gate. Sure enough, as she turned her head, eyes narrowing slightly, Faith took in the sight of Cordelia's form, clad in a long dark blue robe and slip on sandals, her skin pale in the florescent beam of the pool area's bright lamp lighting.

The first thought that came to Faith's mind was not to wonder why Cordelia was there, or what she might want, or even whether something was wrong; something about the look in her eyes, the lack of sharp guarded intensity that usually so carefully closed them off, was missing, and because of this, Faith could not seem to feel suspicious or defensive herself of Cordelia's presence. She didn't ask, didn't want to ask, and didn't need details of why…sometimes, you just kind of know when it is that you want someone near, even if that someone turns out to be someone you don't even really like, and who you know doesn't really like you.

Sometimes that even makes it easier.

Cordelia's hair was unbrushed, hanging down her back in a messy fashion that Faith had never observed on her before, that she would have thought the other girl would never allow herself to set foot out of her bedroom or bathroom looking like, let alone allow another person to observe, even if it was just Faith, whose opinion and approval she neither needed nor cared about. Likewise, her makeup was slightly smeared around the eyes, and with most of her carefully applied foundation gone, Faith was startled by the dark, bruise like coloring beneath her eyes, by the slump of Cordelia's shoulders- she who always stood so straight, tall, and proud, she who despite her height, Faith had never until now seen wearing anything but heels.

It was clear in this lighting, in those first moments of silent observation between them, that Cordelia was weary, maybe even exhausted, and not just from lack of sleep…it was even more clear that this was not a phenomenon of only this night, but rather a well-covered secret of quite some time.

For perhaps a minute the two girls eyed each other without speaking, observing the other with a shared tired watchfulness, seeing details that varied from the norm they were accustomed to and processing without analysis or judgment their meaning. Though Faith's heart continued to beat in steady rhythm, a sudden tightness closed itself around her upper chest, even as she continued to watch Cordelia's face, not yet looking away. She knew she should say something. She knew she should break up the moment, make some smartass comment, tell Cordelia to go away. She should WANT her to go away.

But she didn't. Faith didn't want her to leave, though hell if she knew why.

She was just so damn tired.

It was Cordelia who broke eye contact, her gaze slowly drifting over Faith's barefoot, skimpily clad form with no change in expression. As Faith glanced down at herself, she realized that her skin was beginning to be riddled with goosebumps, though she had not yet begun to shiver or become aware of feeling cold. Then Cordelia's gaze landed on the still-smoking cigarette in Faith's hand, and she spoke for the first time, her voice quieter than Faith had expected.

"I told you not to smoke around here."

Faith looked at her cigarette, almost having forgotten for the moment it was in her hand, and brought it back to her lips, taking another drag but turning her head to exhale the smoke so it didn't waft in Cordelia's direction. Normally she would have probably deliberately tried to blow the smoke in her face, just to piss her off. But tonight, she had no desire to. The thought of doing so didn't even cross her mind.

"We're outside," she said instead, turning her head back towards Cordelia as she spoke, and her voice too was softer than she had expected. "The smell won't stay. It's been a long day, Cord, all right?"

She was surprised, but made no comment when Cordelia didn't press the matter further, instead exhaling and stepping towards her, stopping a few feet from her as her eyes shifted from the pool's flat surface back to Faith.

"You ever going to try out the pool without your ass being on fire first?" she asked with a ghost of a smirk, nodding towards it as she crossed her arms, pulling her robe more tightly around herself as if just looking at Faith's exposed skin made her feel cold. "Most people that come here, that's the first thing they want to do after they're done gawking around looking to see if we all have Hope diamonds and sleep on piles of gold or something."

Faith smiled, thinking of Buffy's nearly identical question from before, and then shrugged, shaking her head slightly as the smile tipped over into a smirk. "I don't have a bathing suit. Kinda figured if your old man happened to come by for a late night swim, him seeing all my goodies would give him a heart attack if he wasn't expecting it. Might have a few seconds of fun first, but the heart attack after part would be a bitch."

She paused, swallowing, then shifted her eyes away; she could feel Cordelia still watching her, seeming to be waiting for further explanation, so she added with as much nonchalance as she could muster while still avoiding her eyes, "So yeah, no bathing suit. You get chased out of town by one wicked bastard granddaddy of all vamps, packing stuff for future pool parties isn't exactly at the top of your priorities."

She knew Cordelia was still watching her. She knew the other girl was thinking about what she had just said, probably trying her hand at piecing together what she had left out, what Faith had no desire to even talk or think about. Why had she said that…why had she even cracked open that door?

Cordelia would want to know all about it now probably, thanks to her and her big stupid mouth. She would want to know every bit of it, she would look at her and just KNOW. Her dream, her thoughts, Trick…Diana…as irrational as it was, Faith was almost sure that by saying that little, Cordelia would know all, or at least start asking questions.

But she didn't. Instead, she came forward, sitting on the pool chair beside Faith's with her legs crossed, smoothing her robe over her knees as she rolled her eyes and snorted cynically in response to Faith's words.

"Oh, don't worry, Daddy doesn't notice anything unless it's somehow related to "the business," which, after eighteen years, I couldn't tell you exactly what it is he DOES in it that's so fascinating he wouldn't notice naked jailbait in his pool, or even the fact that he HAS a pool. Not that I'm giving you permission," she added, narrowing her eyes at Faith briefly, "just stating the facts. It's the same with MOMMY," she added with a shrug, the sarcastic emphasis she put on the word making her disdain clear. "She's too busy "test-tasting" vodka and self-medicating for stubbed toes and hangnails with Valium and Xanax to notice naked pool activities either."

She paused, her lips curving but not quite forming a smile, shaking her head. "Well, she DID notice the pool boy cheating on her, but she's been hitting the bottles, plural, so much since, I kind of doubt she'd see much more than a big wet blur if she ever looked again. She might even ask for your number."

At that mental image of Cordelia's still-yet-to-surface mother, weaving heavy-lidded and slurring a proposition as she stared at a nude, backstroking Faith, Faith snickered; sad and scary as the image was, it was also pretty damn hilarious. She would have figured Cordelia would get pissed and start reaming her out over her amusement, mild as it was, but instead, the other girl chuckled slightly too, rolling her eyes. For a few moments Faith thought about saying something about her own mother, with her quick fists and loose mouth, her own habit of mixing men with self-medicating, but quickly stifled the brief urge. Way too personal, what the hell was she thinking? Cordy's parents weren't hers- whatever shit they did, they were still there, giving her food on the table and a roof over her head and whatever the hell else she wanted too. Cordy's parents were still alive. It wasn't anywhere near the same.

Still…parts of them weren't like Faith would have thought. Parts of it maybe made it possible that Cordy maybe understood at least parts of what Faith knew of what it was to have HER parents, or at least her mother. Not most, or even much at all…but parts, or at least parts of parts. And that was more than she could say about most people.

For several moments both girls were quiet, neither really looking at the other. There was a faint tension between them, something like anticipation, maybe even fear, though Faith didn't know why that would be true. She didn't think Cordelia was afraid of her, and she sure as hell wasn't afraid of Cordelia…so what was it then? What made her swallow nervously, unable to think of anything to say and not quite able to meet her eyes?

"You're not really going to keep wearing clothes from WAL-MART, are you?" Cordelia asked suddenly, shifting to face Faith again, and the withering emphasis she put on the word made Faith stiffen defensively, her eyes narrowing, chin lifting.

"Yeah, I am. That a problem?"

"Well, yeah, if anyone sees you around ME," Cordelia retorted, as though this were an obvious response, shaking her head. "I can overlook cheap or slutty, but not WAL-MART cheap AND slutty, that's just going too far. Not that I've seen your selections, but I HAVE seen what Wal-Mart offers, and I REALLY don't want to see it again, specifically on living human beings. What we ought to do is take Daddy's credit card and get you a decent wardrobe."

With all the comments about Wal-Mart clothes looking cheap and slutty, Faith had tensed, beginning to grow angry, her jaw tensing as sharp retorts flashed across her mind, rising to the tip of her tongue. But with the last casually tossed out comment from Cordelia about buying her clothes, she was thrown enough to blink instead, confusion and shock taking precedence over offense.

"Huh?" she asked blankly, attempting to reconcile in her head that Cordelia had not only asked her to go shopping with her, but also offered to pay. "Are you screwing around?"

Cordelia huffed out loud, rolling her eyes upward as she shook her head, tucking one foot underneath herself as she shifted her weight. "Do I generally just say things to hear myself talk?"

"Yeah," Faith deadpanned, and Cordelia huffed again, shrugging.

"Well, I'm not now. You could use some retail therapy…not to mention some decent clothes." Her eyes slid over to Faith's, and there was something different about her expression, careful, almost soft…almost hesitant, as if she were unsure of Faith's reaction. "You know, pet your inner child with manicures and string bikinis."

Yeah, Faith was beginning to get the picture now…this wasn't so much a matter of generosity or guilt, as Cordy hating her clothes and wanting to stick it to her Daddy dearest by having not one, but two people spending his dough. Free stuff or not, like hell was she going to make herself someone else's tool for spoiled brat rebellion.

"Look, leave me out of all your daddy issues," Faith snapped, crossing her arms and partly turning away, stubbing out her cigarette and not lighting another. "I bought the shit I need. I don't need anything if your DADDY is gonna just get pissed and kick me out on my ass here."

She started to stand up, intending to go back inside the pool house to leave Cordelia alone, but Cordelia grabbed her arm, holding it with surprising firmness as she looked Faith in the eye, her voice deliberate, but also carrying a weary edge…and what Faith was startled to realize was pain.

"Let's get this clear right now, Faith, I didn't ask you out of pity, or to pay out any active Elektra complexes, or anything like that, so just knock the chip off your shoulder already before it falls on its own and knocks out a toddler. The truth is that as long as I make straight A's, do well on the SAT, get into the right schools, show up for Daddy's business parties playing the part of the pretty little Daddy's girl, and date the right boys without getting pregnant, he doesn't care about anything else I do or am. I might as well be furniture."

Cordelia paused then, continuing to stare directly into Faith's eyes in such a direct, confrontational, yet intensely serious manner that Faith swallowed, her lips thinning unconsciously. She didn't' even think to look away from her as Cordelia continued.

"Trust me…I can spend whatever money I want, whenever I want, for anything I want, and as long as I don't spend, like, ten thousand all at once, no one will blink twice. No one will even notice, because they both do the same damn thing. Spending a few hundred dollars or even a few thousand to get you some decent clothes isn't going to piss Daddy off. He wouldn't even ask about it."

To Faith, this declaration made absolutely no sense, and she frowned, attempting to apply what she knew of logic to what Cordelia had just declared…but no matter how she twisted it, if what Cordelia said was true, it simply did not fit into what she thought she understood about Cordelia, or girls like Cordelia.

But Faith was beginning to think now, after the buildup of incidents over the past several days, that maybe Cordelia wasn't quite the kind of girl she had thought she was…that maybe she hadn't really understood her at all.


	25. 25

Chapter 24

"It's now that I feel

Your grace fall like rain

From every fingertip

Washing away my pain"

"I still believe," Jeremy Camp

Note: This chapter is so super long it may need to be three chapters. It may seem slow and talky, but it's pretty important to the development of the story so hang in there. Also, thanks to Ltlconf for basically laying out the idea for the next few chapters.

As Faith had retreated into the pool house, letting her bags drop to the floor of her bedroom for the moment without yet bothering to take the time to put anything up, she had half expected to find Earl lounging around somewhere waiting for her, smirking, maybe gulping down another Mountain Dew, or chewing on a chicken leg or something. Not that she had chicken legs lying around, or that she would have a clue how to make them or anything. But for a guy who was dead and didn't exactly need actual nourishment, he seemed to enjoy doing all that human stuff anyway.

She still expected him to pop up even as she stripped out of her dirt-streaked clothes and took time to check out the status of her sore ribs and formerly dislocated shoulder, finding her ribs to be tender and bruised but unbroken, and her shoulder to only ache dully. It was nothing a long hot shower and a good night's sleep couldn't fix. But even as she slipped into one of her new tanks and a pair of snug gray boi shorts, nixing the shower idea in favor of food, Faith found as he headed back towards her kitchen area that Earl had still not showed up.

It wasn't like she WANTED him to. In fact, Faith would greatly prefer he leave her the hell alone tonight and give her space, even if she did have a LOT of shit she wanted to say to him. But usually Earl did come to her at least once at some point in the day, normally when least convenient and expected, and especially today, after so much had happened, she would expect him to put his two cents in. If he had to come, she preferred he do it then, when she was alone and had nothing much else to do, than, like, next time she tried to sleep with someone, or when she was getting her own self off if she couldn't do that, or when she was sleeping. The last two which she wanted, and soon, if he didn't get his ass over and be done with it fast.

But Earl didn't appear, and Faith started to make herself a few sandwiches, trying to focus on her individual movements, her approaching "alone time" and sleeping, and forgetting everything else. But as she sat down to eat, her legs jogged beneath the table with steady tense rhythm, and she could barely taste the food in her mouth, let alone focus on it solely. So much shit going on today…way too much to think about, way too much to even try to keep straight. Better not to think about it at all, any of it. Better not to think.

But Faith couldn't stop.

88888888888888888

She had the nightmare again; she usually expected it, at least a couple of times a week. But this time was different. This time, it was worse.

She was back in the warehouse, all the lights dimmed low, her clothes torn, hanging, streaked with blood and fear-induced sweat. Her chest was heaving, her breath coming in shallow pants no matter how often she swallowed, her vision blurred with tears- but not enough so she couldn't make out the leering features of the vampire pinning her against the wall, the same vampire who had just moments ago ordered and participated in the murder of her Watcher.

The worst of the worst, they called him, so ancient and evil he no longer was able to shift to human features. The worst of the worst…Kakistos.

Her shoulder screamed with pain, dangling uselessly where he had yanked it from its socket, and his clawed hand tightened around it, only amplifying her pain and nearly paralyzing her from being able to struggle to break away. His other hand squeezed her left breast, digging in its claws as he used his body to keep her pinned against the wall, his grin widening as he felt her heartbeat gallop wildly beneath his claws.

Kakistos opened his mouth, fangs bared to bite…but then the dream shifted, taking on an aspect it never had before, as his face began to change, softening into the hazy, indistinct features of a human man from a memory of long before, features that Faith nevertheless recognized and felt chilled to the core of her to see.

"Shh," he whispered, his hand on her breast loosening, almost a caress. "It only hurts for a second…"

As Faith opened her mouth, trying to scream, to fight back, she could not move, and no words would emerge. Out the corner of her eye she saw Diana's limp form, broken and blood streaked, her former Watcher's eyes open and yet sightless in death…and then this too was shifting so it was another's dead eyes meeting hers, not her Watcher, but a man. It was the man from the alley…the man she had killed.

They held her gaze, somehow both existing within the same pair of eyes, and as Faith's apology, her pleas for forgiveness, stuck in her throat, she heard the hazy human whisper once more into her ear.

"You know you want this, little girl…"

888888888888888

She awakened with a sharp spasm that did not entirely stop when her eyes snapped open, but instead gave way to violent shivering beyond her control. Faith's sheets were damp with sweat; she could feel her hair sticking to the back of her neck and her cheeks, her tank clinging to her skin, and something between a sob and a scream was choking her, not quite able to emerge from her throat. For several moments she only swallowed frantically, eyes open wide and unblinking in her effort to force back the tears she could feel burning at their surface, threatening to escape, and clutched her sheets around herself, trying to bring herself warmth and ease her shaking. But even as her shivering ceased and the brief threat of tears lessened, the incoherent rush of visuals still remained in her mind's eye, and she could not stand to remain still and observe them for a second longer.

Getting to her feet somewhat unsteadily, but quickly maintaining balance, Faith fumbled for the top drawer of her nightstand, closing her palm around the lighter and pack of cigarettes she found inside. She didn't look in the mirror as she quickly stumbled from the room, not wanting to see her tangled, sweat-dampened hair or her darkly smudged makeup, the emotions no doubt easily identifiable in her expression. She did, however, see a glimpse of her digital clock just before she left the doorway, and somewhat distantly noted that it was three am.

It being springtime, the night air was cool as Faith made her way to the Chases' poolside, beginning to pace around its perimeter as she lit her cigarette with slightly shaking hands. Though she was still clad only in her tank and boi shorts, she was not cold, however; in fact, the cool air felt good against her flushed skin, soothing in a manner she had no words or thoughts for. As Faith inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in her lungs, she paced a few more laps around the pool before sinking down onto one of the reclining beach chairs nearby, posture slumped as she finished off her first cigarette rapidly, stubbed the butt out on the concrete, and lit her second. Yeah, Cor would bitch at her for smoking, but this had been one long fucking day, and Faith honestly didn't give a shit at the moment.

Way too much going on, way too fucking much…more ass flaming, the added boob thievery, talks and training with Giles, the talks with Xander, Buffy, AND Cordy, the asshole salespeople, the thing at the cemetery with Trick, and now this on top of it all, not even like before, where she at least knew what to expect, but ADDED shit, it was all too much. Too fucking much, and if Cordy was going to try to keep her from having a few damn cigarettes right now, Faith might not be able to control her reaction.

She sat, smoking in silence, for several minutes, gradually able to appreciate more fully the impact of the nicotine flowing through her, gradually bring her a greater sense of calm physically if not mentally. As her pulse slowed nearly to a normal rate, her thoughts lessened in number and intensity as well, until Faith felt something approaching numbness. She greatly preferred this to most strong emotions. It wasn't quite blankness, not entirely, for there was a difference between blank nothingness and hollow emptiness, the difference between harboring no pain and harboring pain that was felt only dully, if at all. Unconsciously Faith knew this difference, and vaguely resented that she could not have her preference of truly feeling nothing at all. But if emptiness was the best she could hope for, then it would have to be enough…it was certainly better than a barrage of thought.

The noise behind her was soft, barely more than a click, and Faith ignored it but tensed slightly, alert, until she heard quiet footsteps, nearly soundless against the concrete ground surrounding the pool. Before she turned Faith knew already, with no real logic of why, who would be standing behind her, several feet away by the pool's gate. Sure enough, as she turned her head, eyes narrowing slightly, Faith took in the sight of Cordelia's form, clad in a long dark blue robe and slip on sandals, her skin pale in the florescent beam of the pool area's bright lamp lighting.

The first thought that came to Faith's mind was not to wonder why Cordelia was there, or what she might want, or even whether something was wrong; something about the look in her eyes, the lack of sharp guarded intensity that usually so carefully closed them off, was missing, and because of this, Faith could not seem to feel suspicious or defensive herself of Cordelia's presence. She didn't ask, didn't want to ask, and didn't need details of why…sometimes, you just kind of know when it is that you want someone near, even if that someone turns out to be someone you don't even really like, and who you know doesn't really like you.

Sometimes that even makes it easier.

Cordelia's hair was unbrushed, hanging down her back in a messy fashion that Faith had never observed on her before, that she would have thought the other girl would never allow herself to set foot out of her bedroom or bathroom looking like, let alone allow another person to observe, even if it was just Faith, whose opinion and approval she neither needed nor cared about. Likewise, her makeup was slightly smeared around the eyes, and with most of her carefully applied foundation gone, Faith was startled by the dark, bruise like coloring beneath her eyes, by the slump of Cordelia's shoulders- she who always stood so straight, tall, and proud, she who despite her height, Faith had never until now seen wearing anything but heels.

It was clear in this lighting, in those first moments of silent observation between them, that Cordelia was weary, maybe even exhausted, and not just from lack of sleep…it was even more clear that this was not a phenomenon of only this night, but rather a well-covered secret of quite some time.

For perhaps a minute the two girls eyed each other without speaking, observing the other with a shared tired watchfulness, seeing details that varied from the norm they were accustomed to and processing without analysis or judgment their meaning. Though Faith's heart continued to beat in steady rhythm, a sudden tightness closed itself around her upper chest, even as she continued to watch Cordelia's face, not yet looking away. She knew she should say something. She knew she should break up the moment, make some smartass comment, tell Cordelia to go away. She should WANT her to go away.

But she didn't. Faith didn't want her to leave, though hell if she knew why.

She was just so damn tired.

It was Cordelia who broke eye contact, her gaze slowly drifting over Faith's barefoot, skimpily clad form with no change in expression. As Faith glanced down at herself, she realized that her skin was beginning to be riddled with goosebumps, though she had not yet begun to shiver or become aware of feeling cold. Then Cordelia's gaze landed on the still-smoking cigarette in Faith's hand, and she spoke for the first time, her voice quieter than Faith had expected.

"I told you not to smoke around here."

Faith looked at her cigarette, almost having forgotten for the moment it was in her hand, and brought it back to her lips, taking another drag but turning her head to exhale the smoke so it didn't waft in Cordelia's direction. Normally she would have probably deliberately tried to blow the smoke in her face, just to piss her off. But tonight, she had no desire to. The thought of doing so didn't even cross her mind.

"We're outside," she said instead, turning her head back towards Cordelia as she spoke, and her voice too was softer than she had expected. "The smell won't stay. It's been a long day, Cord, all right?"

She was surprised, but made no comment when Cordelia didn't press the matter further, instead exhaling and stepping towards her, stopping a few feet from her as her eyes shifted from the pool's flat surface back to Faith.

"You ever going to try out the pool without your ass being on fire first?" she asked with a ghost of a smirk, nodding towards it as she crossed her arms, pulling her robe more tightly around herself as if just looking at Faith's exposed skin made her feel cold. "Most people that come here, that's the first thing they want to do after they're done gawking around looking to see if we all have Hope diamonds and sleep on piles of gold or something."

Faith smiled, thinking of Buffy's nearly identical question from before, and then shrugged, shaking her head slightly as the smile tipped over into a smirk. "I don't have a bathing suit. Kinda figured if your old man happened to come by for a late night swim, him seeing all my goodies would give him a heart attack if he wasn't expecting it. Might have a few seconds of fun first, but the heart attack after part would be a bitch."

She paused, swallowing, then shifted her eyes away; she could feel Cordelia still watching her, seeming to be waiting for further explanation, so she added with as much nonchalance as she could muster while still avoiding her eyes, "So yeah, no bathing suit. You get chased out of town by one wicked bastard granddaddy of all vamps, packing stuff for future pool parties isn't exactly at the top of your priorities."

She knew Cordelia was still watching her. She knew the other girl was thinking about what she had just said, probably trying her hand at piecing together what she had left out, what Faith had no desire to even talk or think about. Why had she said that…why had she even cracked open that door?

Cordelia would want to know all about it now probably, thanks to her and her big stupid mouth. She would want to know every bit of it, she would look at her and just KNOW. Her dream, her thoughts, Trick…Diana…as irrational as it was, Faith was almost sure that by saying that little, Cordelia would know all, or at least start asking questions.

But she didn't. Instead, she came forward, sitting on the pool chair beside Faith's with her legs crossed, smoothing her robe over her knees as she rolled her eyes and snorted cynically in response to Faith's words.

"Oh, don't worry, Daddy doesn't notice anything unless it's somehow related to "the business," which, after eighteen years, I couldn't tell you exactly what it is he DOES in it that's so fascinating he wouldn't notice naked jailbait in his pool, or even the fact that he HAS a pool. Not that I'm giving you permission," she added, narrowing her eyes at Faith briefly, "just stating the facts. It's the same with MOMMY," she added with a shrug, the sarcastic emphasis she put on the word making her disdain clear. "She's too busy "test-tasting" vodka and self-medicating for stubbed toes and hangnails with Valium and Xanax to notice naked pool activities either."

She paused, her lips curving but not quite forming a smile, shaking her head. "Well, she DID notice the pool boy cheating on her, but she's been hitting the bottles, plural, so much since, I kind of doubt she'd see much more than a big wet blur if she ever looked again. She might even ask for your number."

At that mental image of Cordelia's still-yet-to-surface mother, weaving heavy-lidded and slurring a proposition as she stared at a nude, backstroking Faith, Faith snickered; sad and scary as the image was, it was also pretty damn hilarious. She would have figured Cordelia would get pissed and start reaming her out over her amusement, mild as it was, but instead, the other girl chuckled slightly too, rolling her eyes. For a few moments Faith thought about saying something about her own mother, with her quick fists and loose mouth, her own habit of mixing men with self-medicating, but quickly stifled the brief urge. Way too personal, what the hell was she thinking? Cordy's parents weren't hers- whatever shit they did, they were still there, giving her food on the table and a roof over her head and whatever the hell else she wanted too. Cordy's parents were still alive. It wasn't anywhere near the same.

Still…parts of them weren't like Faith would have thought. Parts of it maybe made it possible that Cordy maybe understood at least parts of what Faith knew of what it was to have HER parents, or at least her mother. Not most, or even much at all…but parts, or at least parts of parts. And that was more than she could say about most people.

For several moments both girls were quiet, neither really looking at the other. There was a faint tension between them, something like anticipation, maybe even fear, though Faith didn't know why that would be true. She didn't think Cordelia was afraid of her, and she sure as hell wasn't afraid of Cordelia…so what was it then? What made her swallow nervously, unable to think of anything to say and not quite able to meet her eyes?

"You're not really going to keep wearing clothes from WAL-MART, are you?" Cordelia asked suddenly, shifting to face Faith again, and the withering emphasis she put on the word made Faith stiffen defensively, her eyes narrowing, chin lifting.

"Yeah, I am. That a problem?"

"Well, yeah, if anyone sees you around ME," Cordelia retorted, as though this were an obvious response, shaking her head. "I can overlook cheap or slutty, but not WAL-MART cheap AND slutty, that's just going too far. Not that I've seen your selections, but I HAVE seen what Wal-Mart offers, and I REALLY don't want to see it again, specifically on living human beings. What we ought to do is take Daddy's credit card and get you a decent wardrobe."

With all the comments about Wal-Mart clothes looking cheap and slutty, Faith had tensed, beginning to grow angry, her jaw tensing as sharp retorts flashed across her mind, rising to the tip of her tongue. But with the last casually tossed out comment from Cordelia about buying her clothes, she was thrown enough to blink instead, confusion and shock taking precedence over offense.

"Huh?" she asked blankly, attempting to reconcile in her head that Cordelia had not only asked her to go shopping with her, but also offered to pay. "Are you screwing around?"

Cordelia huffed out loud, rolling her eyes upward as she shook her head, tucking one foot underneath herself as she shifted her weight. "Do I generally just say things to hear myself talk?"

"Yeah," Faith deadpanned, and Cordelia huffed again, shrugging.

"Well, I'm not now. You could use some retail therapy…not to mention some decent clothes." Her eyes slid over to Faith's, and there was something different about her expression, careful, almost soft…almost hesitant, as if she were unsure of Faith's reaction. "You know, pet your inner child with manicures and string bikinis."

Yeah, Faith was beginning to get the picture now…this wasn't so much a matter of generosity or guilt, as Cordy hating her clothes and wanting to stick it to her Daddy dearest by having not one, but two people spending his dough. Free stuff or not, like hell was she going to make herself someone else's tool for spoiled brat rebellion.

"Look, leave me out of all your daddy issues," Faith snapped, crossing her arms and partly turning away, stubbing out her cigarette and not lighting another. "I bought the shit I need. I don't need anything if your DADDY is gonna just get pissed and kick me out on my ass here."

She started to stand up, intending to go back inside the pool house to leave Cordelia alone, but Cordelia grabbed her arm, holding it with surprising firmness as she looked Faith in the eye, her voice deliberate, but also carrying a weary edge…and what Faith was startled to realize was pain.

"Let's get this clear right now, Faith, I didn't ask you out of pity, or to pay out any active Elektra complexes, or anything like that, so just knock the chip off your shoulder already before it falls on its own and knocks out a toddler. The truth is that as long as I make straight A's, do well on the SAT, get into the right schools, show up for Daddy's business parties playing the part of the pretty little Daddy's girl, and date the right boys without getting pregnant, he doesn't care about anything else I do or am. I might as well be furniture."

Cordelia paused then, continuing to stare directly into Faith's eyes in such a direct, confrontational, yet intensely serious manner that Faith swallowed, her lips thinning unconsciously. She didn't' even think to look away from her as Cordelia continued.

"Trust me…I can spend whatever money I want, whenever I want, for anything I want, and as long as I don't spend, like, ten thousand all at once, no one will blink twice. No one will even notice, because they both do the same damn thing. Spending a few hundred dollars or even a few thousand to get you some decent clothes isn't going to piss Daddy off. He wouldn't even ask about it."

To Faith, this declaration made absolutely no sense, and she frowned, attempting to apply what she knew of logic to what Cordelia had just declared…but no matter how she twisted it, if what Cordelia said was true, it simply did not fit into what she thought she understood about Cordelia, or girls like Cordelia.

But Faith was beginning to think now, after the buildup of incidents over the past several days, that maybe Cordelia wasn't quite the kind of girl she had thought she was…that maybe she hadn't really understood her at all.


	26. 26

Chapter 25

"Why are you striving these days?

Why are you trying to earn grace…

Tell me where will you go, child, where will you run…

Please don't fight these hands that are holding you"

Tenth Avenue North, "By your side"

Author note: At least one more chapter before this scene is concluded.

Cordelia the spoiled, selfish rich girl, the girl with the expensive clothes and perfect makeup, the girl who was considered as hot as Faith knew she was by others and who knew it, yet wasn't also considered slutty, skanky, or whorish. Cordelia with her sharp putdowns and sarcastic remarks, Cordelia who made her total satisfaction with herself and her superiority over you obvious the moment she stepped into the room. This same Cordelia who forced EVERYONE to notice her at school, whether they wanted to or not, was totally ignored at home? Cordelia who had looked at Faith like she was poor white trash, if she hadn't actually said the words to her face, had a drunken, pill-popping mother just like Faith had, a father who had no interest- Cordelia, who Faith had always assumed was the sparkling pampered princess of her disgustingly rich parents' eyes?

Of course, it wasn't the same. Cordy's dad might ignore her, but he didn't take off before she was even born. Her mother might drink and pop pills and bring her boyfriends around, but she probably had never slammed her in the face with a beer bottle, broke her arm, dragged her by her hair across the floor, or forgot to feed or bathe her…and Faith was sure Cordelia's mother had never let her boyfriends lay a hand on her. Being a poor little rich girl was not the same as being a poor little POOR girl, because even if Faith was wrong, and every shitty thing that happened to her in her own house had happened in Cordelia's too, one thing she knew for a fact was that no one on the outside had ever looked at Cordelia and written her off as a loser before they'd ever spoken to her. No teacher had ever seen her name on the roll call and assumed before laying eyes on her that she was going to be a troublemaker, a waste of time and space.

That was the story of Faith's life.

But the invisibility thing…that was what really struck Faith. That was what made her unable to shrug Cordelia's words away. Because for her, the one thing Faith could not stand above all other ways of treatment was being ignored when she didn't' want to be.

She had always hated when someone looked past her without seeming to see her, when people didn't seem to notice or care that she was in the room or even that she existed. As a child, and even as a younger teen, Faith had hated so much to be ignored that she often deliberately antagonized people, just to make them take notice, even though this would mean punishment. Even if someone was yelling at you or hitting you, at least they noticed you were there. When even that didn't' always seem to work, she had decided it was better to act like she didn't even want anyone giving her notice, that people bothered her and all she wanted was to be on her own, free to do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted.

Hell, she still did that…only with Earl screwing with everything, it was getting harder and harder to keep it up for much longer.

But if Cordy was invisible, her parents didn't care about spending money or even having Faith stay in the pool house for the next five months or so…then why would she have made her the money spending offer of going out with her dad's credit card for the day? What in the world could she want?

"Then why would you ask me to do that?" she asked slowly, her voice softer, unsure, and Cordelia's voice too was quiet when she answered, weary, containing none of the sarcasm or defensiveness it usually displayed as she shifted her eyes away at last, pressing her fingertips against her temples.

"Not because you're such a charming, winsome companion, if that's what you're wondering. Look, Faith…it would just be kind of nice…well, maybe not NICE, but DIFFERENT, to have a day out with someone who doesn't see me as an extra set of studying eyes or wheels, a way to get more popular pushing people off my social ladder, or who just wants in my pants. Well, actually, I wouldn't be surprised if you did, since sex seems to be your first thought in response to everything," Cordelia rolled her eyes, finally giving a small smirk. "But at least you'd be honest about it, even if you did get your boobs flattened for it."

She shifted her eyes back towards Faith, checking her response, but Faith was finding it difficult enough to mentally process what she had just heard, let alone have to talk out loud about it. Her pack of cigarettes long forgotten, she stared at Cordelia openly, then blinked several times, incredulous. From what she was understanding…Cordelia was offering to let her run up her daddy's credit card, because she WANTED to spend time with her? Because CORDELIA wanted to spend time with HER?

Either this was more of Earl's work, Cordelia was totally insane, or this was some huge set up for a joke…but however she looked at it, it was totally whacked. And yet when she looked at Cordelia again, seeing the slight impatience creeping into her eyes, she also thought she saw sincerity. Faith didn't know if she'd actually take her up on her offer, but if it was sincere…well, Cordy was trying to be nice for real, god knows why.

"Oh…well, thanks," she muttered awkwardly, turning her head away, and she was irritated to feel herself blush as she paused, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them subconsciously. "And you know, the other stuff too. Not blabbing about the pants thing…the vamp thing today…" shit, if she thought about it, Cordy had been saving her ass a LOT lately…"and you know, letting me stay here…not like I asked, or you had to, or anything…so, uh, thanks. Got me out of living with Giles or Wesley or god forbid, Buffy and her mom. So…that was cool of you."

Shit, she must sound like a moron…had she made any sense at all, or had she only managed to succeed in totally embarrassing herself by stuttering around like freakin' Willow?

She expected Cordelia to smirk and call her on it in some way, but the other girl didn't make any sort of comment about Faith's delivery whatsoever. In fact, she skipped past any mention of herself whatsoever and focused in on Buffy, snorting and shaking her head.

"Buffy? You mean, Little Miss Golden Perfect Pastel Princess One?" she rolled her eyes, then smirked at Faith knowingly, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah you really dodged one there, huh? Would suck living with the one girl who's as jealous and competitive of you as you are of her."

Faith sat up straight in a hurry, her eyes widening as she shook her head adamantly at this casually tossed out statement. She didn't know what crack Cordy had been smoking, but what she was saying was COMPLETELY off.

"Okay, I am NOT jealous of Buffy, I don't want any of the shirt she has, she can- okay, fine, maybe a LITTLE bit, just a LITTLE bit, will you stop it already?" she backtracked when she felt her pants warm yet again, clinching her jaw. "But there's no way in hell Buffy Summers is jealous of ME."

"Oh, please, you're only the second person in two years to come along who can kick her ass whenever you feel like it, and you've got a body that doesn't require padded bras, unlike her…usually," Cordelia added with a smirk, her eyes dropping deliberately to Faith's chest, which was at the moment appearing full as usual. "Plus you can do what you want without having to answer to anyone or have hardly anyone ever even try to tell you no, or even expect much from you. Believe me, Buffy would see that as a target for jealousy. I mean, she was jealous of the Slayer who couldn't date, owned one shirt, and had a weird accent, you think she's not gonna be jealous of the girl who shows up and starts hooking up with all the guys in Sunnydale who aren't demons, robots, vampires, or demon worshippers?"

Faith had to admit that the other girl might have a point…still, Buffy had Angel, didn't she? Or she had…from what Buffy had been saying earlier, it sounded like that was on the outs. But did it matter what Faith had done or looked like at first though, if Buffy had Angel, or at least wanted to think she did?

"I get the resentment on her part, and more on yours," Cordelia was saying, and Faith looked over at her again, her brow furrowed. Cordelia was leaning back against the chair, putting weight on one hand, and looking ahead rather than at Faith, seeming to be talking to herself as much as to Faith from the unusual pensiveness in her expression. "But not why everyone is soooo fascinated with her. Personally, I wouldn't wish living a WEEK with Buffy Summers on anyone, much less a lifetime. Mrs. Summers has got to be some kind of a saint to be able to keep smiling without having to heavily self-medicate by this point."

Though Faith couldn't have explained why to anyone who might have asked, her face flushed, one hand knotting into a fist, and a surge of resentment towards Cordelia and defensiveness towards Buffy coiled through her at Cordelia's offhand, somewhat scathing remarks, and she found herself speaking up for her quickly without quite having meant to do so. "Hey, Buffy's not that bad. She has to do a lot-"

"Yeah, Little Miss Hero who saves the world every weekend and on Tuesdays, believe me, I've heard that story enough to act it out on Broadway," Cordelia rolled her eyes, shifting herself so she was facing Faith more fully as she continued. "Look, I know she means well, and she saves lives and all, mine included. I'm not saying she doesn't get props for that. But she doesn't seem to GET what just her BEING here and being what she is DOES. Yeah, I know, it's the Hellmouth, without her we'd all be dead and undead, blah blah blah, but even if she does hero stuff, it still has consequences for other people that SHE doesn't have to deal with. And she doesn't get it. She doesn't even REALIZE it."

With this sudden outburst, Cordelia's voice had risen in volume, intensified, and her eyes had bore straight into Faith's in such a manner that Faith grew uncomfortable, yet strangely drawn in, unable to break eye contact. For several seconds after Cordelia's words had cut off she held her gaze; then she exhaled, tucking one leg in against her chest and directing her eyes towards the pool as her voice dropped.

"Everyone that Buffy comes across gets trapped or screwed over one way or another, and if it's not directly by her, it's from something to do with being around her. I don't think she can help it. Fact remains, you stick around Buffy and her little friends, and you get burned. So…if you're as obsessed with her as everyone else is, take my advice and get over it, or you'll get burned too."

Her eyes returned to Faith as she made her last statement, narrowed, seemingly assessing her….for what? What exactly was she trying to say? Then she smirked, the corners of her mouth tipping.

"And with that screwy angel of yours, I think you've had more than enough burning lately without Buffy adding to it."

Faith snickered, but she was still squirming inwardly at Cordelia's continued look and the implication behind it. Did Cordelia think she was obsessed with Buffy? What did she mean, obsessed? HOW was she obsessed? WAS she obsessed? How often and in what way did you have to think about someone before you were obsessed?

Better not to think about it or ask. And anyway she wasn't obsessed. That was stupid.

Still, better not to say that out loud, just in case Earl disagreed.

Cordy was right about one thing though…ever since she'd come to Buffy, Faith's life had been steadily nosediving into greater depths of suckiness, at least, until lately, and how permanent this was remained to be seen. Not that her life had been so great before, especially with…well, all the shit that happened right before in Boston, shit that she didn't even want to think about. But ever since Sunnydale it had all just been piling, more and more, to the point where Faith not only couldn't trust anyone else, she couldn't even trust her own self. Kakistos…Post…B lying about Angel….that man, in the alley…and now Earl too. Some way or another, it could all be traced back to Buffy.

Maybe Cordelia wasn't too far off the mark in what she was saying…but how had SHE come to that conclusion when as far as Faith could tell, she and B didn't even have much to do with each other whenever possible?

"I thought you were never friends with Buffy," Faith questioned, her tone light, but she was much more curious than she wanted to let on. "What did she do to burn you, steal your lipstick?"

"Please, like I would ever wear anything close to the shades SHE likes," Cordelia rolled her eyes, and Faith pushed aside hurriedly the close up image of Buffy's lips, complete with pale, shimmery lipstick Cordelia was dismissing, that came to her mind. "No, we were never friends, I could tell by day two of her showing up in town that would never work. Not only did she zone in like a magnet on everything weird and evil and get us all sucked in just be EXISTING nearby, she managed to destroy my entire world."

Cordelia gave a slightly bitter, slightly amused chuckle, but when Faith looked over at her face, she was startled to see its features somewhat softer than before, the sadness standing in her eyes. Cordelia might be treating what she was saying as irritating, but even Faith could tell without her needing to say so that it was also a genuine source of pain.

Faith thinned her lips, then shifted her weight, sitting up cross legged with one hand on her thigh as she tried to decide between letting the conversation settle into nothingness and facing the awkwardness of pressing further. Eventually her curiosity won out, and she asked Cordelia softly, "How?"

"Well hanging around her and her dorky friends even just by default, that doesn't exactly do much to keep your homecoming princess title," Cordelia huffed, but Faith didn't fail to notice that her arms tightened around her legs, pulling them close to her chest, and she wasn't meeting her eyes. "Ever since I started trying to save my own ass, and the world by extension, from all of Buffy's demons and vampires and ugly worm monsters and whatever else is apparently attracted to the special perfume of ex cheerleader slayers, I've lost my place at the top of the school's social ladder, not to mention all possible dates that are even worth trying not to yawn over, and all my friends. Granted, they weren't exactly the best or most exciting friends you could ask for, but it's Sunnydale, how many are there to choose from anyone with someone dying every week? And the point is, they were MINE!"

Cordelia's voice was beginning to rise slightly as she continued, intensifying, and her features tensed, her eyes narrowing as she fixed them on the pool's surface. She paused, inhaling slowly, and shook her head before continuing, talking to herself as much as to Faith.

"You know people actually make fun of me now? People make fun of ME. That's what being around Buffy does to you…not to mention the whole thing with Xander. I mean, that was okay while it lasted, even if he was a total geek loser, but then what do I get out of that? Mass mocking and public shunning, and being cheated on with WILLOW of all people. WILLOW! I mean, if it was YOU or something I could at least understand a LITTLE, but WILLOW?"

"Trust me, he wasn't that great, I wouldn't be too jealous," Faith blurted without thinking, and Cordelia's eyes bulged as she whipped her head towards her, mouth opening.

"What? You too?" she sputtered, and Faith hurried to clarify herself.

"It was after you guys were done, just the one time. If you didn't screw him before, you ain't missing anything. It wasn't-"

"You SCREWED him?" Cordelia interrupted with heavy disbelief, her eyebrows raising nearly to her hairline, and Faith shifted awkwardly, glancing down at her chest and realizing with some surprise that her breasts were still intact. Did Earl not count this as a sexual conversation?

"If it makes you feel any better, I kicked him out in his underwear after," she offered, watching closely as Cordelia shook her head, still making disbelieving, incredulous sounds to herself…and then slowly began to smile.

"God, he gets around for a dorky loser guy, doesn't he?" She kept shaking her head, then gave a slight chuckle that surprised Faith more than anything she'd said all day…she had expected Cordy to yell, to go off on a rant, something in the realm of anger. But instead she was shaking her head with a mixture of amusement, irritation, and most predominantly weariness in her eyes.

"Well thanks for the update on yet another tally to add to the Buffy related list of destruction also known as my life," she muttered. "And let's not forget the other items of being kidnapped and tied up or handcuffed like every week by invisible psychos or redneck vampires or people who want to feed you to huge snakes, getting knocked unconscious enough to consider just wearing a hardhat if I could find enough to match my outfits, not to mention getting beaten, tortured, nearly killed, and outright HUMILIATED like a dozen times…and by the way, do I get any credit for any of this?" Cordelia asked suddenly, her voice much more clear and intent, though not really loud, her shoulders tensing as her voice gained speed. "Do I get any recognition, at least, for the way I STILL help them out even though NONE of them are my friends, even though I don't HAVE to and no one should EXPECT me to, even though that means ditching dates and cheerleading and any hope of regaining a social life? Do I get an occasional "thanks Cordelia," or even a "Yeah it really sucks how you about died yet again, Cordelia," or even a "Wow too bad about ruining your sixth outfit in one week with disgusting demon blood, Cordelia?" NO, what I get is people looking at me like I'm stupid or in their way, and calling me to be everyone's demon researcher, personal chauffer, money lender, bait, or hot piece of ass to distract people, THAT is what I get! And does anyone think about what that might cost me or what else I might have to do or what might be going on with me, does anyone even pretend to care? NO, huge, flashing, neon light sign NO," Cordelia added fiercely, shaking her head vehemently as her hands dug into the fabric of her robe as she continued to glare fixedly ahead of her, her voice progressively heated.

"Of course not. But Little Miss Perfect Pastel Princess so much as breaks a nail, everyone drops what they're doing to help HER, because only SHE knows real trauma. Me, I lose my whole world and everyone just rolls their eyes and goes on. I lose my world and no one even NOTICES."

Cordelia's voice cut off abruptly, her last word spoken in a hissing whisper that shook with noticeable emotion. Her fingers continued to press hard against her knees, gripping the material of her robe so tightly that Faith wondered if it might tear. Her features were rigid, her jaw held to tightly that Faith thought she was gritting her teeth, and though there were no tears in her eyes, she had felt the way Cordelia looked at that moment enough times to suspect this was only because she was keeping them under strict control.

Cordelia was heavily emotionally invested in what she was saying, and Faith could not stop herself from staring. She was talking about more than her valley girl friends, more than popularity, more than fighting demons or getting used as bait or distraction or anything to do with Buffy and her friends at all. Hearing the way she spoke her last couple of sentences more than the actual words she said, and seeing the raw hurt in her eyes that the other girl was not entirely able to successfully conceal, Faith's heart beat faster, her stomach tightening with wordless recognition of what she had no words to describe…her first recognition of someone else who had indeed, as Cordelia had put it, lost her world.

Someone like Faith.

It wasn't a thing or a status or a lifestyle that Faith had lost, at least, none of those had been what really hurt at all, what haunted her thoughts and dreams. What Faith had lost was people, one person in particular, and looking at Cordelia's face, she recognized without needing any deep insight, but only a reflection of herself in a face not her own, that Cordelia had as well….and that like Faith, the person Cordelia had lost had likely been the one person who really mattered to her.

Faith took in a slow breath and held it for several seconds, eyes still fixed on Cordy's profile, and struggled silently before taking the plunge to voice the question that had been dangling between them.

"Cordy…who did you lose?"


	27. 27

Chapter 26

Author notes: Might be a bit confusing, but Faith's watcher is named Diana (Dormer). Her mother's name (for the purposes of all my stories) is Diane Lehane. I named her mother Diane in the very first story in which she was mentioned that I wrote years ago, so even though I now call her Watcher Diana after the Go Ask Malice series (which I do not consider to be canon), I continue to call her mother Diane. Sorry for any confusion.

"One tear in the driving rain

One voice in a sea of pain

Could the maker of the stars

Hear the sound of my breaking heart…

If you're everything you say you are

Could you come close and hold my heart?"

Tenth Avenue North, "Hold my heart"

Cordelia exhaled, glancing down, and then deliberately flexed her hands, loosening their grips on her robe and legs before answering, still looking out towards the pool for the majority of the time she spoke. Her voice was quiet, thoughtful, and somehow sounded older than her chronological age, much older than it usually did, and wistful. She sounded like a woman in her forties or fifties, looking back upon happy memories of her childhood, and maybe that was how she felt.

"Consuela," she began softly, once again pulling her knees to her chest as she kept her eyes on the pool, her features losing some of their previous tautness as she began to speak. "She was the head housekeeper, ever since I was born. Since before I was born, actually. She wasn't hired to be a nanny or anything, but that's pretty much what she was too. I don't think Daddy or Mommy ever asked her to be…I think she just did. Because she wanted to. Because she liked me. Even when I was just a little kid."

She paused, her lips thinning, and as Faith watched her, her brow creased, she saw Cordelia blink quickly, widening and then narrowing her eyes. This too she recognized for what it was- a tactic to keep back tears. Still, Cordelia's voice didn't change, and no tears fell as she continued.

"I bet Mommy never changed my diaper even once when I was a baby or anything else like that, you know? It would ruin her nails or scar her eyes or something like that. Even when I was a little older and not as much of a pain in the ass to take care of, though, it was the same. Mommy and Daddy forgot I was even there until they wanted to show me off to one of their friends or Daddy's business people, and once they got tired of me- you know, after about five minutes- they would just send me off again. They didn't care where, as long as it was away. But Consuela…she was always there."

Cordelia paused again, swallowing, running one hand slowly through her hair, and Faith stayed silent, waiting, aware of very little else but the girl sitting beside her. She found herself sitting very still and straight, her eyes unwavering, and unconsciously she almost held her breath as well as she waited for Cordelia to continued.

"Consuela, she was the one who did all the things you're supposed to do as a parent," Cordelia said after a few moments, her voice even and controlled, but she didn't meet Faith's eyes. "She was the one who would tuck me in at night and put me back to sleep if I had nightmares, took care of me when I was sick and put band aids on my knees, made sure I actually had a few people at my birthday parties who didn't just want to eat cake and swim in my pool…you know, I called her Mommy until I was four," Cordelia told her, and her voice dropped lower, the renewed tautness of her features revealing to Faith her continued fight against emotion. "I didn't ever really say it or show it to her, when I was older. I wasn't really nice to her at all most of the time, actually. But that's who I thought she was. My mom."

She stopped speaking again, opening and closing one hand against her leg, and Faith waited several beats before speaking up softly.

"So…what happened to her?"

Cordelia gave a bitter laugh, shaking her head, and for the first time her voice hardened, no trace of suppressed tears in her expression as she replied.

"Well, Buffy had something to do with it, as always, or rather Xander in this case. Daddy FINALLY found out about me dating Xander this fall- and it only took him, oh, a YEAR to figure it out- and he actually took notice of me, since I wasn't following his little guidelines of What A Chase Should Be," She said with heavy sarcasm, making accompanying gestures. "Apparently a Chase can be a pill-popping drunk-ass who sleeps with all the RICH people in town, or a totally clueless workaholic who sleeps with all the YOUNG people in town, but god forbid a Chase date someone who's not a quarterback, especially a POOR someone who's not a quarterback and also happens to be a Harris. THAT Daddy puts his foot down on. THAT is what slanders the almighty Chase name. Daddy can screw his 20-year-old secretary, half the staff, and all their daughters, but god knows, Cordelia with someone who doesn't play sports or belong to a country club? Not acceptable, of course. Mind you, I could screw the entire football team and half the basketball team too and as long as I don't' get pregnant or I take care of it quietly if I did, THAT Daddy would be okay with, since they're all good families and he's sleeping with their moms!" Cordelia spat, her eyes narrowed to slits, and Faith didn't even bother to disguise her staring, or her total absorption in what the other girl was saying. She was getting quite the education in what it was to be Cordelia Chase, and what she was learning pretty much floored her.

Faith had always figured that Cordelia would be a typical spoiled little princess of an only child, an overprotected daddy's girl whose parents considered her too precious to associate with any human guys, raging at the thought of any date of hers attempting to more than peck her on the cheek. But from what Cordelia was describing, her father would proudly encourage her to practically be a hooker, as long as she was selective about who she gave it to- or rather, about their parents' tax brackets.

Without wanting or meaning to, Faith's thoughts drifted towards brief memories of Diane Lehane and her own "standards" towards Faith and any guys Faith became involved with, however briefly. Her mother's few rules when it came to Faith and dating was for Faith to not get knocked up (and to take care of it on her own if she did), to not steal her birth control, to not come in past two am (but she could stay out all night if she wanted), to not get tangled up with "those rich assholes who think they're doing something slumming with a Lehane," (like they wanted her anyway), and to keep her hands off her own guys (like Faith wanted anything to do with her mother's "dates…" and like they even gave her a choice in the matter half the time). Faith's mother, like Cordelia's father, apparently, couldn't care less about her daughter's romantic or sexual life, as long as it fit within her very twisted standards of decency.

Faith had always figured her mother's lack of attention or interference was cool, that it meant she could do whatever she wanted and have a better time for it. But as she looked at Cordelia, seeing the anger mingled with hurt and sadness in her expression, she found herself reconsidering her almost against her own will. Had she REALLY been having fun all those years- was it really a good time for more than twenty minutes to be with a guy who would be gone in the morning, a guy who didn't give a shit about her, a guy who might hit her or call her names or treat her like the disposable bitch he saw her as, the hooker that he didn't even have to pay?

She didn't like having these thoughts, didn't' like the track it was leading her mind down, and she shifted her eyes away from Cordelia, her stomach clinching as she forced them away fast.

"So…what does that have to do with Consuela? The thing with Xander and your dad," she tried to redirect, having a hard time at first remembering what they had been talking about. She was glad when Cordelia, too preoccupied with her own story, didn't' seem to notice anything odd in her expression or voice and said nothing about it, continuing her own story with a deep sigh.

"Well, like I said, when Daddy found out about Xander, he was pretty pissed. He told me to break up with him right away before I "disgraced the Chase name" any worse than it already was, "Cordelia put air quotes for emphasis, rolling her eyes, but Faith could see even with her impatient mannerisms that she found it upsetting to talk about. Cordelia's eyes were bright with what Faith thought with discomfort was controlled tears as she went on.

"I told Daddy where he could get off on, Mommy got into it too, there was a whole yelling thing, and next thing I know Daddy's saying if I don't break up with Xander he's going to fire Consuela. More yelling, blah blah blah, but Daddy meant it. He said I had a day to decide and if I wouldn't he would fire Consuela AND he would make me break up with Xander. And the stupid thing is, even though I wouldn't tell HIM yet, I already knew I would pick Consuela. I mean, I could just wait until I was at college to date Xander, or at least until I was eighteen, because I was still a month away from eighteen at the time, you know?"

She took in another slow breath, tensing her jaw, and though her voice was taut, resentful, the pain in her eyes was still starkly clear, however well she was able to control it.

"But Consuela found out what Daddy was saying and she decided enough was enough, she wasn't going to be used as blackmail against me. So she quit, and Daddy started making more threats, this time to her, and she ended up leaving town, scared for her life and all her grandkids if she ever put her nose into my or Daddy's business again. He told her never to contact me again, and I guess she must have believed him…because she hasn't."

As Cordelia paused, thinning and wetting her lips, then lowering her eyes, Faith found herself staring at her, uncertain of how to process or react to her story. Her first instinct was to stride into Cordelia's house, pound on every door until she found Cordelia's father, and beat the hell out of him, complete with vivid mental visualizations accompanying this impulse. The depth and suddenness of the anger coursing through her for Cordelia's sake astounded her…in that moment, if her father had appeared before them, it would have been difficult for Faith to hold back from killing him.

But then there was the Xander factor to get pissed over too…KNOWING all this, how the HELL could he have turned around and stuck his tongue down WILLOW'S throat?

As if reading her thoughts, Cordelia turned her head towards Faith with a snort, shaking her head bitterly. "Then to really top it all off, Mr. I Gave Up All My Friends, My Social Status, Guarantees of Non Embarrassment On a Daily Basis, and The One Person Who's Always Been There For Him, all of that is still not enough to keep him satisfied. He goes and cheats on me with WILLOW ROSENBERG a few months later, and I end up impaled through the stomach with rebar. He KNEW what had happened, he KNEW what dating him cost me, and he did it ANYWAY, and then he has the NERVE to think he can just apologize and have me back? No way in hell, he gets NO second chances. Anyone who wants him can HAVE him, and if they have a single living brain cell they won't want him for long," she concluded caustically, then sighed, her voice dropping.

"So that's the result of having anything to do with Buffy Summers and her friends. You end up with your life as you know it totally screwed over with no one caring or even realizing, and you have a permanent scar that makes it damn near impossible to wear a decent bikini."

She paused, eyes narrowing again, not seeming to see Faith so much as bore a hole through her with her gaze as her voice hardened.

"But it's not really any of them that I REALLY can't stand, even Xander. He's stupid and selfish, but that's nothing new. It's Daddy I really hate. For almost seventeen years I practically don't' even exist to him, and then he finally pays attention and my whole world is destroyed…and unlike everyone else, he does it on purpose. Not because he's too selfish or horny or blonde to think about it…because he WANTED to. Because he THOUGHT about it. That's why I hate him now."

As Cordelia finally drew to a stop, sucking in a slightly shuddering breath and pressing her lips together so firmly they almost formed a straight line, Faith regarded her closely, still thinking intensely about her words as she pieced them together in her mind.

What Cordelia had described was entirely wrong, unfair, and downright cruel to have happened to her, though on the part of all but her father, it was mostly unintentional or oblivious ignorance. But that, beyond the significance of her loss and the meaning it carried over into her life, was what struck Faith hardest, to the point that her chest ached, her stomach knotting with the depth of her firsthand knowledge of what Cordelia had just described. Even more than the losses themselves that Cordelia had experienced, the fact that no one even knew, outside Xander, that no one had noticed or cared enough to know, was what got to Faith, because again, it was her own situation.

Had Cordelia seen this somehow, recognized it before Faith had even been capable of noticing it in anyone outside herself? All that time Cordy had been hanging on the edges making snarky comments, seemingly noticing nothing outside her own self, had she actually been looking much more often and closely than anyone would have given her credit for, seeing pieces of herself in Faith that even Faith denied existed? Or had overhearing Buffy and the others arguing about Faith's circumstances in the library drawn her attention to it for the first time, driving her towards her recent chain of actions that had escalated to bring them to this moment in time?

Faith didn't know, and she suspected it didn't really matter. In this moment, sitting with Cordelia beside her, Cordelia's deepest, most hidden pain offered up before her in the first gesture of deliberate vulnerability Faith had ever witnessed from her, Faith felt a slowly intensifying stir of empathy, even appreciation…a softness and connection towards her she would never before this day…this night…believed to be possible.

She could not say so, however. It would have shamed and literally choked her to say anything of the kind out loud, and though she wanted to say something to express understanding or sympathy, to indicate her appreciation for what Cordelia had shared, what came out instead was gruff defensiveness that conveyed only a small bit of what she truly thought.

"That really sucks, Cor…your old man sounds like one major asshole, and I'd want to kick his ass to Pluto if I were you. And I'd do it. But look, like I said, I'm not here to be something you can use to pay Daddy Dearest back for being a number one bastard. If you think you're gonna buy me shit and let me stay here and get me to do stuff that's gonna make him blow his toupee so he takes it all out on me instead of you, you can damn well think again. I'll go back to the motel if that's your game, because I'm damn sick of being played."

Cordelia's head whipped around to face her then, and she fixed Faith with an expression that was half glare, half disbelieving stare as she raised her voice, leaning towards her with aggression.

"Did you even listen to a word I said, Miss The Chip On My Shoulder Is So Huge It Covers My Ears and Blocks My Hearing? Nothing going on here, nothing I did or said is about YOU, it's not about using you or screwing you over, god, self-centered much? And it's not about Daddy either. I told you, it doesn't matter what I do anymore, he really doesn't care now that he thinks the damage has been done with the dating Xander after Consuela left. He got his "I told you so" after we broke up and he gets to show me off at business parties and as long as I smile and don't get spinach in my teeth, he doesn't care what I do the rest of the time as long as he doesn't have to be there to notice. Nothing I do with you would be enough to disrupt his little world, so give it a rest on the suspicion already. Mommy would actually have to be sober enough to tell the difference between her daughter and another girl with dark hair to even know you're here, and that won't ever happen as long as there's no vodka or valium making strike going on, and even if there was she'd just fly to France or something and REALLY not have a clue what I was up to. Look, I know you think everyone in the world is personally out to screw you, figuratively AND literally, but if you haven't figured it out by now, if I wanted sex with you, I would take off my clothes and go for it, right here, right now, and if I wanted to stab you, I would do it looking you in the eye and sticking you in the heart instead of that stupid while your back is turned coward crap. And before you get all paranoid, that wasn't a literal death threat, SOME of us aren't as focused on violence and gory death as an answer to everything like you Slayer types. So bottom line, all your hang ups over all this? Get over them!"

"Oh yeah? Then what's the deal with Wesley before, like, yesterday? You're telling me you weren't going all goo goo eyes and giggles just to make Xander jealous?" Faith challenged, grabbing onto his as a last straw, and Cordelia didn't miss a beat in her straight on response, looking her flat in the eye.

"No, that was exactly what I was doing, and if anyone including Xander would have asked, I would have told them. I mean, I would have told him in a way that would really piss him off, but I would TELL him. And I'm through with that anyway, Xander's too busy looking at YOU to notice enough for it to be worth drooling over a guy who looks like Clark Kent, acts more girly than Xander or even ME, and anyway after hearing what a tightwad he is over being your Watcher, it sounds like I wouldn't exactly be showered with expensive gifts if I let him keep mooning over me. So screw the Wesley thing."

Seeing Faith's look of both amusement and disgust at that choice of wording, Cordelia smirked, rolling her eyes, and finally unwrapped her arms from her legs, stretching and sitting up straight. "Okay, not so much with the screwing. Anyway, I'm punishing myself with the Wesley thing more than Xander…probably the best thing to do to get back at him is to actually get over him and not care, because then he'd be all bothered I'm not caring enough to want to get him back. So maybe I should actually try the moving on thing. Who knows."

She stopped then, taking a sudden and very uneven breath, then turned her eyes back to Faith, saying with sudden seriousness that made Faith swallow, her muscles tensing.

"This…you being here, and…THIS…it's NOT about screwing anyone over. And you don't owe me anything for it…okay? You don't OWE me."

Faith stared at her, stunned by the fierce sincerity in Cordelia's voice and expression, not to mention the words she was speaking. As Cordelia continued to hold her gaze, she wanted to look away, to deny her words as being said merely on momentary impulse or being spoken out of manipulation or obligation. She wanted so strongly to be able to dismiss them…it would be so simple, so much easier, so much less…everything…to simply walk away and not even try to think about any of this anymore.

It would be so much less scary to walk away and not believe.

But Faith knew the truth….she knew that Cordelia was conveying what she saw to be the truth. She could see that now, for whatever reason…boredom, loneliness, weariness, grief, or empathy, or even shared resentment, but most likely, a combination of it all… Cordelia was opening herself up to her, making known to Faith what had been hidden from all…what no one could have imagined lay beneath her snarky exterior. She had chosen to make herself and her hidden pain known to Faith, had helped her often over the past few days without being asked, and she was asking for nothing in return. Nothing except for Faith to listen now, and maybe go shopping with her one day later.

Even after listening to her story, even as she looked at Cordelia's face now, it was unbelievable…and even though Faith did in fact believe, it was a need for more explanation rather than a need for proof that made her swallow, her voice soft as she asked her, "If it's not about that…then what is it about? Why are you being like this?"

Moments stretched between them in which Cordelia did not answer, in which she lowered her eyes, her lips thinning, her shoulders hunching. As Faith waited, licking her lips, her brow mirroring the furrow of the other girl's, Cordelia raised her eyes again…and Faith saw they were glittering with unshed tears. Still, Cordelia's voice did not waver, and no tears escaped as she held Faith's eyes, and she spoke quietly but with intense feeling in her tone.

"Because…nothing is worse than being noticed and seen, but always ignored. I know that…I LIVE that…and I think you do too…don't you?"

She exhaled slowly, swallowed again, and though neither girl had moved, it seemed to Faith that Cordelia was somehow physically closer; she could almost imagine that she could feel her brush against her skin.

"So…if you never ignore me…I'll never ignore you."

That last sentence was the most quite, yet also most level in tone, a proposition that was also a question as Cordelia regarded her with some apprehension, the tears gone from her eyes as she waited. Faith's heart pounded; whereas she had previously been almost cold in the late night air, she now felt warm enough to perspire, and her throat, when she tried to swallow, was scratchy and dry. It was fear that kept her from answering immediately…fear of taking such a step, fear of possibly relying on another's word, fear of looking vulnerable or emotional, fear of future disappointment and loss…but mostly fear of what might happen if she continued making changes in her life, even changes for the better, and what she in turn might ultimately become…or be unable to become.

It was strong fear that delayed her response and conflicted her thoughts, but a stronger desire that gave voice to her eventual answer, that allowed her to look Cordelia in the eye and however hesitantly, give her a reply.

"Okay."

They held each other's gazes for a few more seconds, serious, yet also unsure, and then both girls looked away, awkward, almost shy in the wake of this commitment. Faith could hear her own heart beating. Scanning her thoughts rapidly for something- anything- to say to ease the moment, she blurted out a little more loudly than she'd intended, nervously squeezing her hands on her knees as she glanced back over at Cordelia.

"I always said all men are beasts…can't expect much on that front, so…"

To her relief, Cordelia snickered, shaking her head and rolling her eyes, and for a few moments she looked like the sardonic, unflappable Cordelia that Faith was used to, the Cordy who held nothing but scorn for any others around her.

"Well THAT is friggin' obvious. You know, eighteen years here and I haven't seen a guy yet who's totally loyal to a girl or doesn't try to control her. Not ONE. Okay, well, maybe Oz, but he's got the whole "I try to eat you alive and I'm not talking sex either" thing going three nights every month, and I've got to say if you're trying to control whether your girl lives or ends up a late night snack, that pretty much counts."

Faith laughed, nodding in agreement. "Pretty much, yeah."

As silence resumed between them again, Faith found herself glancing over at Cordelia frequently, not quite making eye contact, her heart still beating just a little harder and faster than she was okay with. Though Cordelia said nothing, and made no move, Faith could see the pensiveness coming over her features again, the slight slump of her posture resuming as she turned her gaze once again towards the pool, thinning her lips. Watching her, Faith's stomach dropped, and her chest tightened…and it was with the fierce control she had seen exerted in Cordelia that she kept back the tears suddenly burning the back of her eyes.

She didn't know what made her do it, or what thoughts had crossed her mind before she did. Faith simply discovered herself to be moving without awareness of the purpose behind it, standing briefly to sit beside Cordelia on Cordelia's chair, and by the time she was questioning herself on what the hell she was doing, she had already rather jerkily and clumsily reached for the other girl to pull her into a hug.

Initially Cordelia was too startled to react; her eyes widened, and Faith felt her body tense against her own, not quite recoiling but also not relaxing into the contact. But after a second or two her arms went around her, tentative at first, then more strongly as she hugged her back, leaning the side of her head against Faith's with slowly increasing contact. Faith stayed very still, head leaned against Cordelia's, chin awkwardly hooked over her shoulder, her hands splayed across Cordelia's back, and let the flow of confused thought and feelings move through her, without trying to analyze any one of them in particular.

She was very much aware of the physicality of the moment; she could clearly hear her own slightly uneven breaths, and Cordelia's as well, out of sync with the continued thudding rhythm of her heartbeat. She could feel the tickling softness of Cordelia's hair against her cheek, the warm pressure of Cordelia's hands against her back, the way their knees were forced to ram into each other because of the angle of their embrace, and it was not a natural feeling at all. It wasn't comfortable or easy…they did not fit together smoothly, with their bodies relaxing into each other as though accustomed to doing so. It was strange… it was awkward…

But even so, it was somehow comforting…and Faith wanted so desperately for it to continue that she didn't dare to move, lest Cordelia interpret it as a signal to pull away.

What she was doing…full out HUGGING another human being, much less Cordelia Chase…it was something Faith simply did not do, something that no one ever offered her. Sure, she might slide a friendly arm around Buffy once in a while, and she often straddled or briefly embraced whoever it was she was sharing her bed, right before kicking them out the door. But giving someone a full on, nonsexual hug, a hug that lasted for any sort of prolonged space of time…there was only one person in Faith's life that had ever initiated this, and only one person Faith had ever initiated it upon in return. And her Watcher…well the last time Faith had been touched in any manner even similar to this was over ten months ago, before Diana had been killed.

The strange thing was though…despite all of the dates and boyfriends Faith was sure Cordelia had had, and all the little airheads who called themselves her friends…Faith got the feeling, from the way Cordelia returned the embrace, that maybe Cordelia wasn't used to this either, not just with her, but with anyone…that maybe, it had been quite a long time ago, and very few people, who had ever really hugged Cordelia as well.

Faith wasn't sure what to do with her hands, when she should pull away, if she was too close or holding too tightly or not holding tightly enough, and she was certain as the hug continued that Cordelia must hear her own heartbeat, as loud as it sounded to her own ears. It must have been only a minute or two at the most when Cordelia finally pulled away, but to Faith, it had seemed both a very long time and not quite long enough to satisfy. As Cordelia withdrew her arms, they met each other's eyes, giving faint, slightly self-conscious smiles…and then Cordelia leaned forward, quickly and lightly kissing Faith's cheek.

Faith had barely processed this, could still feel the warmth of Cordelia's lips on her skin, when Cordelia spoke again, finally breaking the quiet.

"You're training with Giles again tomorrow?"

When Faith blinked, then nodded wordlessly, Cordelia concluded. "I'll see you in the quad at lunch then. I'll make sure you have a seat. Wear something not-black, alright?"

She stood, watching Faith for another moment, and then began to make her way towards the pool's gate, stopping as she reached it to address her one last time. In the dim lighting of the lamp nearby, it came to Faith's mind that even without makeup and perfectly fixed hair and matching clothes, even at three am, Cordelia was still one hot chick…no…that she was beautiful.

"You better go to sleep if you're gonna kick Buffy's ass in training tomorrow…you know damn well SHE makes sure she gets her beauty sleep."

She smirked slightly, and when Faith smirked back, gave a slight wave as she shut the gate behind her.

"Good night, Faith…like I said, no black."

She had almost moved beyond Faith's sight before Faith thought to echo her good night back to her; still, she thought she saw Cordelia's faint nod of acknowledgement before she had completely left Faith's view.


	28. 28

Chapter 27

"My whole world is the pain inside me

The best I can do is just get through the day…

I wonder why God lets me walk through this place

And though I can't understand why this happened

I know that I will when I look back some day

And see how He brought beauty from ashes

And made me as gold purified through the flames"

"Beauty from Pain," Superchick

When Faith opened her eyes the next morning, only four hours after she had managed to go back to sleep, she nevertheless felt no grogginess or exhaustion that had been something she was accustomed to awakening to for almost a year now, despite the low amount of time she had been able to rest. In that four hours' time she had slept harder and more soundly than she could recall in quite some time, with her rest undisturbed by dreams, and as she sat up in her bed, stretching experimentally, her muscles pulled in a gentle manner.

Faith groaned softly as she pushed back her blanket and stood, stretching deeper, and found herself to be smiling…definitely not a usual morning occurrence. But the thing was, she felt good. No idea how the hell that was possible after practically no sleep and all the crap from the day before, but somehow it was, and she did.

She felt GOOD.

It must have had something to do with the night before, the whole talking to Cordelia thing. Not that Faith had done a lot of talking- it had mostly been Cordelia. Still…listening to her, learning about her…knowing that she was being trusted, in a way no one else she knew of had been…it was something she wasn't used to, that she didn't really know what to make of it, even with Cordelia's explanations. It was something that she looked back on now as almost unreal, an occurrence that seemed more likely to be a dream or some screwy fantasy than reality.

But it had been reality. And what she had said to Cordelia, about never ignoring her now, even about finding her at lunch today at the high school…that had been reality too.

Faith didn't know what the hell she had gotten herself into, and thinking about it in the first few minutes of her day, she was more than a little apprehensive of what was to come. But even so, whatever her uncertainty, whatever her confusion now, it didn't take away from the fact that Faith felt damn good at earlier than eight am.

She had a little over an hour until Giles would be coming by to get her for her training, so Faith padded over to the Wal-Mart bags still discarded on her floor, digging for a decent outfit ensemble for the day. Of course, none of the simple items she had selected would meet Cordelia's level of approval, but they were clean, and the tank she slung over her arm was blue, not black. Still, as she entered the bathroom, Faith found herself unconsciously trying to press the shirt's wrinkles with her hands.

Emerging from the bathroom having brushed her teeth, showered, and dressed, wet hair hanging in tangles down her back, Faith turned towards her mirror, reaching for her brush- and immediately noticed the reflection of the figure sitting patiently on her bed, watching her. It was Earl at last, his weight mostly supported by one hand as he leaned back onto it, eyeing Faith's movements with a friendly smile.

Normally Earl's appearances out of the blue, usually when most inconvenient for her or when she was most pissed off, rattled or angered Faith to the point that she would stop what she was doing to confront him, even if that just meant telling him to get the hell away from her. But today, in her unusually mellow mood, Faith just rolled her eyes, yanking her brush through the snarls in her hair in fast but controlled strokes.

"Things to do and places to go, Earl. Catch you later, alright?" she tossed out over her shoulder, returning her attention to her own reflection as she continued to work on her hair.

Earl chuckled; she could still see his reflection watching her out the corner of her eye.

"Well, good morning to you too, Faith," he replied. "Definite improvement over my last greeting from you, but I guess that wouldn't take too much, would it? What, you ain't gonna cuss me a blue streak or wrestle me to the ground this time around?"

"Knowing you, you'd just take my tongue and tits away, and I kinda got enough issues without going out looking like a total freak in front of Cordy's gang today," she rolled her eyes, still focusing on her own reflection rather than Earl's as she shifted most of her weight to one foot. "I think you can ease off the punishing me in the most public and irritating way possible thing now, alright? I'll play the good girl if that's what you want, though I think that's a mistake, 'cause it will probably literally kill me, and then I'll go straight to hell. And that's kind of what you're trying to avoid in the first place, isn't it, dooming me to a toasty afterlife?"

Finishing with her hair and tossing it back off her shoulders to finish air drying, Faith moved on to her eyes, beginning to apply eyeliner with a heavy hand. Earl's voice was mild as he responded, but with a seriousness as well that made her eyes shift to his in the mirror, seeking out his expression.

"Nah, you get a free pass on all that today…ain't gonna promise you the same for tomorrow, though, 'cause you've got plenty you need to be working on, and you're the kind of girl who needs a little more motivation than a polite request," Earl said dryly, nearly smirking, but his expression and tone remained serious as he continued. "What you ain't getting is none of this is really about punishment. It ain't about you being bad or trying to make you good, it ain't about making you Mother Teresa, bless her soul, it ain't about you being able to quote Bibles verses or having perfect church attendance, or even going to church at all."

"Well you sure fooled me then," Faith said with incredulity, stopping her movements and fully meeting Earl's eyes in the mirror as she replied. "If setting my ass on fire or taking my boobs every time I do whatever you think is some big sin isn't PUNISHMENT and trying to make me be what you think is GOOD, then what the hell would you do to punish me, kill me on the spot?"

"Nah, I leave that kind of thing to God, vengeance is His alone," Earl replied easily, and Faith blinked several times at this, abandoning any attempts to resume putting on eyeliner at this point as he kept talking, still holding her gaze in the mirror. "No, Faith, this is where you just ain't getting it, isn't it? Of course I want you doing better…of course I don't want you to sin, and God don't either, because it's against His nature to sin, totally against all He is. But you acting better by pure willpower, without any help from anyone else- without any help from God? First off, can't be done, and God would never expect it. It's impossible to be what God would look at as GOOD, because God's view of good, it don't leave no room for less than perfect, Faith."

"Then what's the point of even trying?" she shot back, almost glaring at him in the mirror as her hand tightened unconsciously around her eyeliner, her jaw tensing. "You said I can't be good, I'm not PERFECT, God's never gonna give me his official God Stamp of Approval anyway, so why the hell do I even have to try to follow his stupid rules? Why try at all, I already fail, why not just leave me the hell alone?"

She began to finish applying her makeup with a slightly shaky hand, looking only at herself now, not daring to let her gaze waver to the side. Just a few comments from Earl, and that was all it had taken for her anger and defensiveness to swell inside her, for her pulse to quicken with her desire to do something to feed into her increased adrenaline. Running, hitting something, yelling, all seemed very desirable at the moment. But Earl's voice was so gentle when he responded, so genuinely caring in tone, that Faith stilled in spite of herself, listening unwillingly.

"No human can be what God would consider good, Faith…but every single one of you, He will willingly accept as His. Every one of you is loved, no matter what you do or how many times you mess up, and as long as you keep picking yourself up and trying again, He will always take you back. You can't possibly have a clue just how much or how deeply God loves you, Faith…but some day, you'll understand at least a little, and it's gonna change everything for you."

"Some love," Faith scoffed, even as her heart refused to slow its beats and her hand refused to steady itself. "Do what I say or go straight to hell. Watch your mouth or I set you on fire. Yeah, he's a regular Mr. Rogers, that God."

"No human is good, Faith," Earl said softly, and he was standing now, taking a step towards her. "But they ain't all bad either. That's what you have trouble believing."

He paused, close enough to touch her, and repeated quietly, with soft insistence, "You're not bad, Faith. You make mistakes. But that don't make you a bad person." He waited a few more moments, watching her expression in the mirror, and then repeated quietly, "You're not bad."

Faith stared into the mirror, her mouth dry, her eyes dark and intensely reflecting back at her. But it was not her own eyes she saw, but those of others, three dying pairs of eyes in various shades peering out accusingly behind her own. Through the eyes of her mother, her Watcher, and the man she had killed, whose name she did not know, Faith looked at herself, and it was through their shared gazes that she spoke.

"Oh yeah?" she challenged, but her voice was rough, almost cracking as she lifted her chin, issuing her rebuttal. "If we're all such sinners and no one is good, but I'm not bad, if I'm just like everyone else out there and we're all exactly the same according to your GOD, then why am I the only person I know here with an ANGEL on me, watching my every move and slapping my wrist when I step out of line? If this isn't about being bad or turning me into one of your holy roller hallelujah God lovers, and it's not about punishment, then what the hell IS it?"

Earl was standing behind her, and when he looked at her, it was not her reflection he looked at but rather her profile as he attempted to meet her eyes. His hand reached slowly, resting gently but firmly on her shoulder, and though Faith stiffened, eyes darting to his in the mirror, he did not remove his hand.

"You ain't seeing the big picture, Faith," he said quietly, almost tenderly, and Faith swallowed involuntarily, clinching her jaw against the feelings that just a soft tone addressing her could cause to rise to surface. "You're focusing on all the little details and how to interpret them, and meanwhile you're missing out on the end results we should both be aiming for. This ain't so much about changing what you would do, though I ain't gonna deny that would help. It ain't so much about sin, because sin, that's one long struggle no human's ever gonna overcome, not as long as they're living here on a sinful earth. It ain't about what other people are like compared to you and you being any better or worse, now or ever. It ain't even truly about God, Faith, though I ain't denying he plays his part in anything major that happens to anyone. It ain't about none of those things you think you understand."

He paused, his hand still gently resting on her shoulder, and when he began to speak again, Faith's eyes drifted towards his again, listening in spite of herself.

"What it is about, Faith, is you. It's about who you are, and who you're gonna be. Not just as a Slayer or hero…who you're gonna be as a person. As a young woman. No one can get there on her own, and it's about time someone stepped up and helped you. But there's gotta be people aware you need help first, and that means you need to be aware too."

He paused again, watching her; when Faith swallowed, her eyes shifting aside, and came up with no reply, he continued, his voice quietly insistent.

"All of this, when it comes down to it, Faith, is to help you get to the point where you can be happy. Not all the time, living some kind of bliss, because that ain't gonna happen in this world unless you're pickling up your brain with some drug that's gonna kill you before you're old enough to legally drink anyway. But happy, meaning you can have peace in your mind, heart, and soul. And nothing you've done so far, nothing you lived and saw, not one bit of that ever gave you that kind of peace, did it, child?"

Faith had no reply to this that she was willing to give. She didn't even want to think about what Earl was saying…but he was right, of course, that she'd never had peace, at least not since Diana…well, what had happened to Diana. But could what he had been doing- what he had been making her do- really give her peace?

She didn't feel peaceful. If anything, with all the changes going on, she felt more confused than ever. But she also could not deny that some things, since Earl's interferences, had improved…and that for the first time, since the alley, she felt the cautious beginnings of hope.

But having no coherent way to express this and still save face, she said nothing, and Earl went on with his words to her.

"You know, there are different ways to get that peace, Faith. One way, like you seem to think, is to change your behaviors, that's true, at least the ones that ain't doing you any favors in your life- but what you left out is you gotta change your thoughts too. If you don't' think anything good about yourself, how do you expect anyone else to? People are lazy, Faith, they're gonna take you at your world- even if you never spoke it out loud," Earl said wryly, lips curving into a small smile. "And the second way is to develop reverence for something bigger than you. No, I ain't pushing the God route, though that's what you're gonna end up showing reverence for anyway no matter what you pick. Nature, music, life itself, all made and made possible by God. Whatever you appreciate, whatever you choose to love that's healing instead of destructive, that's from God, Faith. Pure passion and feeling that builds you up instead of tearing you down…that's God too. And He rejoices to see that in His children, because whatever most of you humans think, God don't' like to see you suffer. Even by your own silly choices."

He paused a final time, and now his second hand moved to take hold of Faith's other shoulder as well, keeping light pressure as though to anchor her as he concluded softly. "What this is for, Faith, is to open your mind and eyes, so you can see more clearly who you are and what it will take to be who you want to be. It's to open your eyes to other choices and possible support systems, to get you started in making connections and following up on goals. It's to get you to see outside yourself to everyone else, because whatever you thought before, I think you're starting to get now that you ain't the only one with anything. And you ain't gonna have to get through anything in life alone either. You've got a good start, Faith…but trust me, you ain't anywhere near the finish line. And me and what I'm doing, it's to make sure when you cross that finish line, it's gonna be as a different girl ending than the one starting out…and that she ain't gonna be crossing all alone."

For several moments Faith was still unable to form a response, even within her own thoughts. The genuine caring in Earl's tone, the gentle pressure of his hands on her, combined with his actual words…it was more than she could process, more than she was sure she was even capable of understanding yet, without more time to think back on it. When she finally was able to answer, it sounded as unsure as she still felt in tone.

"So…what do I have to do?"

"Nothing, today," Earl said, releasing her and stepping away as his voice resumed its normal easygoing tone and volume. "Go train. Go hang out with Cordelia. Ain't got any specific tasks for you today, and no little motivators either."

"That some kind of trick?" she asked with some suspicion, narrowing her eyes as she turned towards him slightly, and Earl chuckled.

"Nope, just the simple truth. We're gonna hang back and try and see how you can get on without any extra prodding from above this time around. Anyway, I think today's gonna be challenge enough without any extra occurrences to worry about."

That casual last bit about the day being enough of a challenge didn't set well with Faith. Her head turned back to him quickly, her chin raising as she demanded, "What is THAT supposed to mean?"

Earl shrugged, infuriatingly cryptic as usual.

"Well, it ain't easy to start out on the first day of the rest of your life, is it?"

That was as non-answer an answer as Faith had ever heard, and to her, sounded like yet another well aimed attempt to piss her off. Exhaling irritably, she turned back to the mirror, swiping her brush at her hair one more time, and then bypassed Earl without really looking at him, reaching for the doorknob as she called over her shoulder.

"You an angel or a fortune cookie? Look, Earl, nice to hear from you and all, but I gotta go. Going to school like a good girl- you know, the one I can't be, according you and God- but if He's in a good mood maybe it will get me some brownie points, ya think? Does God like brownies, 'cause what with my new kitchen and all, I could whip him up a batch as a bribe."

"I prefer pie," Earl replied with a slight smirk, and Faith turned her head towards him, shaking her finger playfully.

"Offer wasn't for you, man. But you tell God if he wants them, He's gotta come down here and ask for them like a gentleman in person, none of that messenger crap, because if the mailman to heaven's anything like you there's gonna be just a plate of crumbs by the time it gets to God's cloud. Like I said, off to do the good girl thing, gotta start with my nutritious breakfast of the champs, so go back playing your harp or whatever you do up there a while, okay?"

As she opened her bedroom door, stepping one foot outside it, Earl replied dryly, "Since when is Froot Loops and chocolate milk a nutritious breakfast, girl?"

Faith's eyes widened, her stride halting midstep; that had been exactly the meal she'd been picturing in her head. She pointed an accusing finger at Earl, giving a startled laugh. Was the guy seriously ALWAYS in her head, and if so, why couldn't he just NOT be, that was friggin' creepy, not to mention nosy!

"Okay, first off, you've got to stop with the thought reading thing, what are you, Sherlock the Telepathic Holmes? And second off, you're one to talk nutrition with your tobacco and your freakin' Mountain Dew!"

"Don't got either this early in the morning," he smiled, and as Faith rolled her eyes, starting towards the kitchen, he followed, to her irritation, seeming in no hurry to leave.

"I'm eating," she reminded him as she opened the pantry, taking out the unnutritous Froot Loops box and a bowl, and Earl smiled patiently, leaning back against her counter.

"Girl like you ain't too concerned about proper table manners, especially with a breakfast like that. You can eat and talk at the same time, ain't gonna offend me any."

There was just no shaking him today. He'd said his piece, all which Faith had tried and was still trying to push aside from her thoughts. What more did he want? It was barely eight am!

"Said I'm busy getting ready for school, how big a hint you want, a billboard?" she said impatiently as she retrieved a glass and the milk cartons, both white and chocolate, and sat down at the table with them. Still leaned against the counters, Earl corrected her mildly.

"For training, not school. Which is all well and good, but a genuine scholarly education wouldn't hurt you none, Faith. Help you out a lot, actually. Ever think about getting your GED, going back to school?"

With Sunnydale, California rich kids as her classmates? Had Earl been smoking crack this morning? Like it wasn't bad enough that Faith knew she had no interest or talent for school stuff, as it was, without setting herself up for failure with THEM as her audience.

"No," she said flatly, and for once, Earl didn't push.

"We'll see. You've got time yet. Got until August, if you want to have it before all the others are moving on to college and what not."

Where the hell was he getting the idea she would? Had he seriously just mentioned college and Faith in the same sentence? He really must be getting high off his own angel dust.

"You gonna just sit there talking to me all morning?" she asked while chewing, not bothering to minimize the view, and Earl nodded pleasantly, even coming to sit across from her at the table and resting his elbows on its surface.

"Yep, never hurts to have company, does it?"

"Unless you consider the pain in my ass," Faith shot back, and as Earl chuckled, she added conversationally, "You're an annoying bastard, you know that, Earl?"

"So I've been told," he smiled, leaning back comfortable in his chair. "Usually a lot more colorfully than that. But since I ain't got anywhere else to be and we're in agreement about me being such an irritating shmuck, let's get back to some of those things called conversations that you don't' like to have. Big day for you yesterday, wasn't it?"

Well if this was how it was gonna be, Faith could go with it…wasn't like she had to give any real answers if he was just going to read her mind anyway. And one thing this guy was good at was getting his way. Best she could do was try not to give him too much of it.

"Yep," she decided was the safest noncommittal reply, smirking at him as she deliberately slurped her milk, but Earl was clearly comfortable with non responses.

"Making friends, working on honesty and not zeroing in on sex as a sole source of connection…shelter, food, money, regular training, setting up support systems, lot to have happen in just a couple of days, especially when it's all so important, but all wasn't there before," he remarked, meeting Faith's eyes, but Faith wasn't willing to go down the heart to heart path she figured he was aiming for. It was EIGHT IN THE MORNING, for one thing, and for another, well, she just plain didn't want to. Ever.

"Yay, you fixed my life. Give yourself a pat on the back and a shiny new halo. Since I'm all better now, you can go find another loser now and work on her, right?"

"I ain't done yet, girl, and you ain't nowhere near 'all better,'" Earl contradicted, raising his eyebrows. "Thing I already said once, you've got a good start going, lots of right ingredients here, but you ain't finished. You hardly even started." He paused, his voice softening as he continued. "You've got pain going through you so deep, there ain't no way a few days is gonna take it all away. Meeting your basic needs ain't the same thing as getting rid of hurt, especially the kind of hurt that builds up over a lifetime. And no amount of money, no house or clothes or food, no human being in this world can take that pain away from you. It just ain't possible, child."

Faith swallowed, her eyes lowering, heart pounding hard in her chest. It was with concentrated effort that she was able to raise her chin and spit back her response with an expression she hoped showed only anger.

"Yeah? And who will, Earl? Jesus, God? Looks to me like He's some kind of sadistic stalker, getting His kicks off watching people go through hell without ever lifting an almighty hand to help out once in a while!"

"Child, you have an angel standing in front of you who erased the death of a man by your hand," Earl said quietly, but with an edge of sternness coming into his voice as he stared directly into her face. "Your future as it was going was gonna be your fast free-fall into darkness as you buddied up with evil, which would put you in an eight month coma, make you a deliberate murderer, suicidal, isolated in every way, and a resident of Los Angeles's largest prison. As it stands now, not only is that not gonna happen, you've got a nice place to live you don't got to pay for, food, clothes, income, and people who care and are trying to do right by you, whatever mistakes they've made, including a guardian angel. Now, you really want to stand there and ask me what God's done for you in your life?"

When he put it like that, Faith had no comeback, because the logic was pretty solid. Not to mention that she was just a little distracted by his brief outlining of what her future had held…evil? Murder? Suicide? Prison? Had that really been her future until Earl, the same path she had always feared, but swore would never occur? And if that had been her future then…what was her future now?

"You asked why God don't just take your pain away," Earl said gently when Faith didn't reply, still chasing the zigzag pattern of her own markedly confused thoughts in the wake of his words. "He could do that any time He wanted to. He could, but that ain't His way. Some things, like God's love, His forgiveness, His acceptance, you don't got to work for at all…but some things, like your own healing, your own growth, you do. But you can't do it right when you're alone. You can't heal when you try to do it all by yourself."

"I'm…not by myself," Faith argued faintly, shaking her head; it was still difficult for her to withstand his gaze when it felt like Earl must know every thought and feeling, seeing through her to what she herself didn't even want to know. "There's people all over me now, they wouldn't leave me alone if I begged them to."

"Maybe so, but have you talked- really talked- to any one of them, without anger or frustration or flaming pants being your motivation?" Earl challenged.

When Faith didn't answer, he went on, " You're gonna have to face up to a lot, Faith, and you're gonna feel pain- that I can promise you. What you're gonna have to do is get your pain outside you, and the only way to do that is to share it with other people. There's a lot of people who want you to let them in, Faith. They ain't perfect. But they care, and they're doing the best they can. Let them try. Let them in. 'Cause the time you're gonna have to is coming a lot sooner than you think."

He stood up then, giving her a last smile, and glanced towards the exiting door casually.

"Looks like one of those people I'm talking about just arrived, so I'll turn it over to him now. Talk to you soon."

And just like that, Earl was gone, only a few moments before the knock sounded at her door. AS Faith stood slowly, moving to let Giles in, soggy cereal abandoned in its bowl, one of Earl's later sentences preyed upon her mind uneasily, more so than the rest.

The time was coming sooner than she'd think…the time for what?


	29. 29

Chapter 28

"Seems there's just so many roads to travel, it's hard to tell where they will lead  
My life is scarred and my dreams unraveled  
Now I'm scared to take the leap  
If I could find someone to follow who knows my pain and feels the weight  
The uncertainty of my tomorrow, the guilt and pain of yesterday"

"Every Man," Casting Crowns

"Well, blue is like, a shade lighter than black," Cordelia rolled her eyes as she looked Faith's attire over critically at the quad entrance, where she had been waiting to meet her for lunch. "But I guess you could have been a real smartass and went with navy, so maybe I should just be counting my blessings you're actually wearing something that's a color and not a shade."

Her eyes fell to the tray in Faith's hand, which held a sloppy joe, fries, and pudding from the cafeteria, and she made a disgusted face, shaking her head and gesturing towards it. "Guess no one warned you about caf food, or else you've been out of school so long you've actually started to have false memories of it actually being food. Word of advice, stick with salads and yogurt or bring your own lunch. Because pretty much anything here that might have at some point been alive, it probably still is if you look close."

"Plants were alive once," Faith pointed out as she nodded towards the endorsed salad on Cordelia's tray, following her as she made her way towards the sea of meandering students towards an empty or "desirably occupied" table. "Wouldn't count anything as totally safe in a school on the Hellmouth, but since I've got the Slayer genes working in my favor, maybe you're the one who should be worried. And anyway, what would meet YOUR royal approval of color choice for my clothes, Queen C? Hot pink?"

"No, very few people can actually pull off really bright colors, since most people aren't the walking Barbie doll they think they are," was Cordelia's immediate and dismissive response. "Turquoise or purple would be good with your skin tone, or a muted orange. Or even green. Not like a disgusting olive green or yellow green or lime green, just, like, a calm green that's not too dark or light, to show the green parts of your eyes more. You know, losing all that dark gunk on your face would help with that too. You should-"

"You noticed that about my eyes?" Faith, not really listening to Cordelia's lecture about colors, had nevertheless had her attention piqued when she mentioned her eye color and glanced over at Cordelia in surprise as Cordelia stopped moving, scanning the area again for an acceptable table. "Most people think they're just totally brown."

"Yeah, well, most people aren't looking at your eyes when they look at you," Cordelia snorted, and Faith smirked slightly.

She had only trained for an hour and read some of the books Giles had pulled out for her, which she didn't want to admit to him hadn't been as boring as she figured, for another before the lunch bell rang today, but after eating with Cordy, she was free to take off, if she wanted, as long as she came back just past sunset tonight for what Giles had mysteriously referred to as "specialized" training. What that was, Faith didn't know, but she figured as long as she could have most of the rest of the day off, she might as well play the good Slayer and come by. Couldn't take more than an hour or so, she figured.

All in all, the day had been pretty uneventful so far. Granted, it was early- but even so, it had already been way less going on to bombard her from all sides with like the past few days before it. Maybe Earl's mysterious little comment about "stuff to come" was just him screwing with her head to make her be a good little girl- who knew with him?

What was on Faith's mind now was the more immediate future, and she voiced this in a tone as casual as she could manage as Cordelia started to walk again.

"So what are your friends gonna think about me joining the crowd? What do they know about me?"

"Absolutely nothing," Cordelia assured her, glancing back at her and meeting her eyes briefly; though her tone was matter of fact, even impatient, short look she gave her told Faith she understood her concern. "And as for what they think, I don't care. Do you?"

Before Faith could answer- and she didn't want to, so she certainly didn't mind- she pointed towards a table where three blond girls were sitting, heads close as they whispered and giggled in near unison. Just looking at them made Faith's stomach tighten- what the hell had she gotten herself into, agreeing to sit with Cordelia with girls like THOSE? She didn't have to be introduced to know the type, along with the looks she'd be given and a full script of their greetings. Yeah, she could see it all, and it wasn't something she was dying to re-experience, even with Cordy in between this time around.

"We can sit there," Cordelia said, nodding her head in the direction of her finger, and Faith opened her mouth, hastily leafing through all possible excuses going through her mind, none which sounded too plausible when she was already standing with the table in view with a tray in her hand. She had not yet chosen one when she heard someone call her name, and she turned, grateful for the diversion, however temporary.

It was Xander, squeezing his way through the crowd towards them, a lunch tray in his hand, and as he caught up to them, he flashed Faith a grin. "Hey Faith! Here again today?"

"You see her, don't you?" Cordelia muttered sarcastically, more to herself than him, and Xander's eyes shifted to her, his smile slipping, a mixture of defensiveness and awkwardness crossing his features. Nevertheless he nodded briefly at her too, greeting her with a slight edge in his tone, but mostly with an effort of civility.

"Cordelia."

Faith looked between the two with some discomfort as she nodded back at Xander. What Cordelia had told her last night hadn't exactly shocked her, that he would have his little fling with Willow after what being with him had caught Cordy- she expected any and all guys to act with their body, not their brains, and Xander was no exception. But his body-not-brains acting had hurt Cordelia, and it was with awkward divided loyalty that she attempted to frame her reciprocal greeting.

Typical guy that on the whole, wasn't near as bad as some, versus sometimes too bitchy girl who had gone out on a limb for Faith more times than she could count by now and had poured her explanation of what made her who she was to Faith the night before….it sounded like an easy decision, and it probably was. The thing was though, Faith didn't WANT to have to pick between them. Clueless as Xander was, she really didn't think he was a bad guy…and she knew even from the past few days, once he realized his cluelessness, he was sorry for it, even if she couldn't make it right.

None of that made her present situation much easier just because she knew all this, though.

"Hey, Xan," she replied, shifting her weight slightly and hoping Cordelia wasn't fixing her with a death stare. "How's it going?"

"So are you going to start eating here every day now?" Xander asked, giving another quick glance in Cordelia's direction before shifting his body closer towards Faith, at an angle where he could practically not even see Cordelia at all. Faith, however, had a clear view of her and Xander both, and the new stiffness in Cordelia's features was all too apparent to her. "Because if that's the case, you might want to start prepping up, stock up on some poison antidotes. Those things can literally be lifesavers on mystery meat day."

"I'll take my chances," Faith replied, just as Cordelia said acerbically, one eyebrow raised, "So do you have a reason for being here, Xander, or are you just taking up perfectly good space like usual?"

Ouch…so apparently the "Cordelia trying to move on" she had mentioned last night still had some kinks to be worked out.

"Actually, I was just letting Faith know I saved a spot for her to sit," Xander replied, his eyes briefly meeting Cordelia's, his tone even, before he turned back to Faith, his expression becoming slightly more nervous as he addressed her. "We have a table back in the corner, Buffy and Willow and Oz and me. There's plenty of room- not that you NEED plenty of room, I mean, not like you take up a lot of space, that's NOT what I'm saying. What I'm saying is- well, want to come sit with us? What with the room, and all."

Faith hesitated with a response; it was clear looking at Xander that he was sincere in his offer for her to sit with them…and that maybe it wasn't one born just of guilt. Or his penis. But Cordelia was right there. Xander had screwed her over in a major way, and Cordelia…well, how the hell would it look to Cordelia for Faith to go sit with Xander after what she had told her, even if Faith did have nothing but dread of sitting with Cordelia's rich, catty little girlfriends?

Cordelia had no such hesitation to voice her thoughts. Rolling her eyes and tossing her hair back from her shoulders, she said with heavy sarcasm, "Oh, what a charming and very tempting offer, letting Faith have the seat no one wanted and implying she's obese. Is that why you have to beat the girls off in droves, because of your smooth pick-up lines like that one? Oh, that's right, you don't want girls that actually want you, only girls that are out of your league and uninterested or else already have boyfriends, because you just love a good challenge, even though it's enough of a challenge for you to remember which shoe goes on which foot. Can we go sit down now?" she directed towards Faith, and Faith blinked, still unable to form a reply before Xander could.

"Hey! That isn't- that's not what I meant- she's not a challenge!" he blurted, and then widened his eyes as he turned back towards Faith, fumbling through an explanation. "I mean, I'm not trying to say you're EASY, it's just not- I didn't- that isn't why I'm asking, it was just- I wasn't trying to sleep with you!" he sputtered, his face reddening, and Faith, for her part, was floored. Not by what either of the others had said- but the fact that people were fighting over her, over who she would eat lunch with…that was so flat out unbelievable she found herself looking around suspiciously for Earl, fully expecting to see him smirking in a corner somewhere. But when her visual scan came up empty on Earl sightings, she knew she'd have to come up with her response on her own, whether or not he had orchestrated this.

"Uh," she said awkwardly, shifting more of her weight towards one hip. "Cordy saved me a seat, X-Man, I was gonna sit with her."

She hoped that would be the end of it right there, but Xander was nothing if not persistent. Casting another quick glance at Cordelia, he replied with mostly controlled trepidation, "Well, Cordy, uh, she can sit with us too. There's room- if she- I was just sitting back there-"

"Thanks for the very belated and stale crumbs from your super special Scooby saved table Xander, but the only answer that's gonna get is me walking away," Cordelia snapped, and she turned abruptly, following through with her own declaration. Faith looked between the two of them, that much more uncomfortable, and gave Xander a small smile before turning to catch up with Cordelia, calling over her shoulder to him.

"Uh…guess I'll catch you later…"

She knew Cordelia more than had a right to be angry with and resentful of Xander- hell, she had a right to punch him out every time she saw him if she wanted. And Faith couldn't say she'd probably do much to stop her, if that was what Cordelia wanted. But…even with Cordy's testimony of Xander's typical maleness, in the way that Faith viewed nearly all males, even with the selfishness and thoughtlessness of his actions while still dating Cordelia, in light of what he had known…even so, it was hard for Faith to completely dismiss him, when he was also the guy who had bought her pizza and kept her company in the library the day before, the same guy who had in the past few days genuinely and repeatedly offered his friendship, seemingly sincere in his apologies.

There was no excuse for his cheating on Cordelia, especially in light of the circumstances under which he had been Cordelia's at all. And Faith failed to see the big attraction to Willow, of all people, either…except that she had been forbidden. And that was the one thing…well, one of the things…that Faith could maybe understand. At this point she had lost track of how many times she had done something she knew damn well was wrong, just because it being wrong somehow made it all the more irresistible.

And then there was the little bit about what Xander had told her, about what it was like to grow up a Harris…its similarity to what Faith had felt, growing up as a Lehane. If someone like Xander, who had grown up with nothing but debt and lack of security on all fronts, with a disparaged reputation as white trash and low class, with lack of attention or affection, even with what some might define as neglect or abuse…if someone like him were to date someone with the wealth and social standing of Cordelia, even with her own issues to counterbalance, the very inequality of their situations, of how people looked at them both separately and as a couple, could be enough of an insecure spot that he might look for assurance from someone more on his level…someone like Willow.

Faith didn't know that this was true. It didn't really matter if it was true. But she was a Lehane, and she was fairly good at reading between the lines when she wanted to be…and if Xander could in any way compare to her at least on a social level…well, Faith wasn't even comfortable exclusively dating someone of her own social class, much less Cordy's. And she knew better than anyone how every time her life seemed to be getting okay, every time she was almost happy, she always managed to fuck it up worse than ever. Hell, she had a guardian angel to show for it.

There was no excuse for what Xander had done, but for the first time, in a rapid stream of thought flitting through her mind as Faith caught up to Cordelia, she was considering possible reasons, and she knew that however much resentment Cordelia still carried, and whatever right she had to it, Faith could not quite match it.

"So what happened to getting over it?" she asked Cordelia with a raised eyebrow as she came alongside her.

"He opened his mouth," Cordelia replied somewhat scathingly, and Faith couldn't keep from smirking.

"Right. Look, Cor, I think Xander and what he did really sucks too, he's a total perve dumbass, like, you know, pretty much every guy on the planet…but you know I don't hate him, right?"

"Well I don't EITHER," Cordelia snapped, rolling her eyes and huffing aloud. "You don't hate a dog for pissing on the furniture, but that doesn't' mean it doesn't piss you off. You know what, screw Aura and Harmony, they can bitch if they want but I don't' want to sit with them today. We can sit over here, okay?" she said abruptly, nodding towards an empty nearby table that would seat six, and before Faith could ask any questions, Cordelia plunked her tray down and sat, almost slamming her purse down on the space beside it.

Faith blinked, somewhat taken aback by this sudden change of plan, but more than a little relieved as well. No bitchy blondes checking her out, at least not today, or at least not where she had to be sitting right across from them. Still, Cordelia was looking more than a little moody now as she tore the top off her yogurt, and Faith attempted to meet her eyes as she said with some seriousness, "Pisses you off every time you see him, doesn't it?"

"NO," Cordelia said vehemently, her head snapping up, eyes flashing, but when Faith just looked at her with clear skepticism, she amended this, her eyes shifting down to her food briefly. "Okay, fine, maybe a little. And I know the whole thing about spanking inner moppets and getting over it, I know the whole deal, it's the actually doing it when he's there that's the hard part…but maybe I should try a little more," she added begrudgingly, rolling her eyes. "He makes it so EASY though. I mean, does he seriously have to be so-"

"Hey guys!" came an almost abrasively cheerful voice from behind Faith, and as she turned her head, recognizing its source before seeing it, Buffy Summers, brown bag in hand, sat in the seat beside Faith's, as though it were something she had done every day for years, flashing both her and Cordelia determined and very friendly smiles. "How's it going?"

She began to remove the contents of her lunch from her bag while waiting expectantly for their replies, even as Faith blinked, more than a little caught off guard. Had Buffy seriously just left the sanctuary of her Scoobies, in public, to eat lunch with her? What game was she playing at now?

"Five by five," Faith replied automatically, even as both she and Cordelia examined Buffy scrupulously, finding her expression to reveal little beyond the cheerful friendliness she chose to reveal. She considered asking Buffy what exactly had made her switch her seating over to THEIR table, but as usual, Cordelia's blunt question beat her to the punch.

"Don't you usually sit with THEM, Buffy?" Cordelia asked with a raised eyebrow, nodding towards the table where Xander had just joined Willow and Oz, shortly after Buffy had sat beside Faith- a table whose occupants, with the exception of Oz, were training their eyes on their own table. And judging from the wideness of Willow's eyes and the stiffness of her posture, clearly visible even from the distance, she wasn't too pleased about Buffy's detour from the usual seating arrangement.

"Usually, but today I'm sitting with you," Buffy replied easily, giving Cordelia a smile that was a little too sweet to be anything less than sardonic before opening her plastic wrapped sandwich and taking a delicate bite. She nodded towards Faith's food, swallowing. "I see you're trying the school's winning science fair project from 1992 aka lunch. If your insides melt, I'm sure Giles can find a cure in one of those books of his. And if you're lucky he might even let you skip training. Not that he has to LET you do anything, you make your own decisions and, and anyway, how is training going? Has he done anything silly like tell you to hit him with balls while blindfolded or accused you of listening to music that pickles your brain and shrivels his soul?"

"Uh…no," Faith replied with some bemusement, finally taking a first experimental bite of her sloppy joe and quickly discovering that Cordelia and Buffy had not been exaggerating the taste. She swallowed fast, gulping down some of her soda, before her eyes shifted again towards Buffy's vacated table, where Willow's formerly wide eyes had narrowed into a clearly resentful expression. No doubt about it, Red wasn't liking B's rejection.

"I think they're looking for you, B," Faith nodded towards the table as Cordelia had, somewhat discomfited…but also unable to deny to herself that she was amused. Weird as Buffy's uninvited sitdown might be at the moment, it didn't suck to stir up old Red's jealousy when she could. It awsn't like Faith didn't know she was probably talking about her behind her back every time Faith turned anyway.

"Oh, they see me," Buffy replied with nonchalance so similar to Faith's that Faith blinked, partly surprised and partly amused as she took another bite of her sandwich. "They can come too if they want, they know where we are."

This offhand comment could not be ignored by Cordelia, and she rolled her eyes with an impatient mutter even as she began to prepare her salad, apparently resigning herself to Buffy's joining them.

"The more the dorkier, then?"

"At least it's not the more the ditzier like it would be with your group," Buffy replied with another sharply sweet smile, and Cordelia glowered.

"It would be if Xander's part of it!"

As if on cue, Xander spoke from just behind Faith; as she had focused her attention on Cordelia and Buffy's banter, she had forgotten Buffy's vacated table, and in that time Xander had come up behind her, startling her enough when he spoke that Faith jumped.

"Looks like this is the place to be," he announced, sitting on the same side of the table as Buffy and Faith on Faith's other side after a quick glance at Cordelia. "How's it going?"

"Well my IQ level just dropped fifteen points and my blood pressure went up fifteen, so I guess you could say very balanced," Cordelia said with heavy sarcasm, rolling her eyes yet again, and Faith's gazed shifted between each of the three. She didn't want to miss an exchange between any.

This might not be the most comfortable 45 minutes she could think of experiencing, but one thing this lunch- and all future ones, if this one was any indication- was definitely not going to be was boring.

888888888888888888

The rest of the lunch period had, as Faith had predicted, been anything but dull, but it was but it was not as disastrous as it could have been either. Though Cordelia had said little that was not sarcastic or biting, especially with Xander, this was her usual method of behavior with groups, and she had managed to survive sitting at the same table with Xander without homicide occurring- rather impressive restraint, if you asked Faith. This may have in part been because Xander had managed to sidetrack Faith into an intense and enthused discussion of comics that had easily spanned fifteen minutes, a time that Cordelia had been happy to ignore his existence other than to occasionally roll her eyes and mutter a sarcastic comment. The comic talk had concluded with Xander asking Faith if she wanted to come pick some to borrow from his locker after the bell rang, an offer she was genuinely happy to take him up on. It had been months since she'd even flipped through a comic, let alone sat down to read a series.

Willow and Oz had never joined the table, not that Faith had expected them to, and every time she had glanced in their direction Willow was still looking over at them frequently, so clearly resentful that Faith could practically feel as well as see it. Obviously the redhead was still in the dark about the "befriend poor underage Faith" mission that her bestest buds were on, or at least about the reason behind it, or she wouldn't be so openly irritated- probably, anyway. It wasn't like Faith wanted one more person finding out about the truth of her situation- there was already more than enough who knew, thanks. And if she had to endure Willow giving her pity when before she hadn't even liked her, it would be more than she could stand.

She could understand why, whenever Willow did find out what was going on, as she no doubt would at some point, though, Willow would be pissed about all her friends keeping her in the dark. Hell, Faith had been there, what with Buffy's huge secret with Angel when he first came back. Being the last to know about stuff was a good way to feel like you weren't wanted, or at least weren't trusted or didn't matter. So for that, Faith could kind of feel for Willow, even if she wasn't' about to say so. After all, to her, it would basically look like her friends were ditching her for Faith, even if they did ask her to come along.

For about half a second Faith had considered telling Buffy and Xander they should talk to Willow, or at least pointing out to them that she clearly wasn't too happy about their decision for the day. But she shrugged the idea off as soon as it came to her. Willow was their problem, not hers, so what did it matter if they were as oblivious of her now as they had been of Faith until just a few days ago?

Just like yesterday, Buffy had been extremely animated and personable in her interactions with Faith, even attempting to join their comic book discussion with her remark that she had seen a few Batman and Superman movies. Again, Buffy had asked Faith over for dinner, and again, Faith had begged off, citing Giles's proposed night training as an excuse and patrolling with Buffy afterward as an alternative. From the determined look on Buffy's face, though, she wasn't sure how much longer she could put her off. It wasn't that she didn't like eating at Buffy's house, it was just that she didn't know if she could stand Buffy AND her mom double teaming her with their "interest," even as nice as Joyce was.

Buffy was obviously trying very hard to be friendly, to be a friend, to the point that it was almost overbearing, and Faith had occasionally had the urge to tell her to back off or to physically move away from her. But at the same time, as annoying as Buffy's over-efforts were, they were also flattering…because they kind of made her feel like, guilty or not, maybe she really did care.

All in all, the lunch experience hadn't been nearly as bad as it could have been, especially considering that Cordelia and Xander were sitting within five feet of each other. Actually, weird as it was to think…it had even been kind of nice…kind of fun.

Granted, Cordelia probably didn't think so, what with having to eat with her still-much-resented ex and with the girl who so irritated her, both who had basically hijacked her lunch date with Faith. But then again, maybe she hadn't thought it all that bad either. After all, she had sat there the whole time without hitting anyone, throwing food, or storming away, and that alone was enough to pretty much make it a success. Sure, when she wasn't outright ignoring Xander, she was making snippy comments about him, and she and Buffy had bantered back and forth most of the time they addressed each other. But that was pretty typical, and by the end of the period, Faith swore she had seen Cordelia snicker once or twice, though she had tried to cover it with eye rolls and fake yawns. So maybe even Cordelia didn't think it was so terrible, even if she never said so.

But whether or not it had been all right, even kind of fun, the Xander circumstances of what EXACTLY his cheating on Cordelia meant to her would not leave Faith's mind, just because of one decent experience. And as Faith followed Xander to his locker after lunch to pick comics to borrow, she decided to herself that without any tasks given to her by Earl, she was giving herself one: getting straight with Xander her position about what he had done to Cordy, and where things were going to have to go from here because of it.

"Xander," she interrupted him abruptly as he dug through the mess in his locker, going on with enthusiasm about the latest arc in the X-Men series. She leaned against the locker beside his, ignoring the rush of raised voices, slamming locker doors, and rapid, clomping footsteps around them as she eyed him with her arms crossed; when Xander looked up, still smiling, she spoke with blunt levelness, eyes fixed on his.

"You were a real shit to Cordelia, and pretty damn lucky she didn't stake you in your sleep."

At this declaration, Xander straightened up in a hurry, pulling his head out from his locker, several comics in one hand, and blinked at her several times in confusion, obviously taken aback and trying to place exactly what she was talking about.

"Uh…what?" he said blankly, and Faith continued to stare at him, blocking out all else around them as she clarified in a low but intense tone that he heard even above the noises throughout the hall.

"I already knew about your little thing with Willow back when you were dating her, which was bad enough, made you enough of a typical moron asshole guy, but I could overlook it if it was just that. I mean, every guy does that if they have a pulse, pretty much. But cheating's one thing if it's just, like, CHEATING…but YOU, after all the shit with her dad and her housekeeper and what she went through because of you, after you KNEW, and you STILL were enough of an asshole to cheat? That's beyond being a stupid guy, that's being a first prize bastard," Faith informed him, leaning closer to him as her voice dropped to a near hiss. "What the hell were you thinking, Xander?"

Xander's eyes widened, and Faith thought she saw fear flicker briefly across his features as he looked at her more closely, as if he were trying to determine just how much danger he might be in from her. She couldn't much blame him for that- if she were in his shoes, she'd damn well fear pissing off a Slayer too.

"She-she told you?" he stuttered, and when Faith nodded pointedly, he swallowed, his eyes dropping before he looked back up at her, fumbling for words with guilt plain in his expression.

"I…I WASN'T thinking," he admitted, letting out a slow breath and thinning his lips, eyes shifting away again. "I wasn't…I wasn't thinking about anything. I just…I just DID it. And I know it's, I know that was wrong…I know there's nothing I could say, Faith. It was wrong, and stupid, and I'm sorry…I am."

"You're damn right you are," Faith retorted, voice rising, along with her eyebrows. "What, did your brain drop out the back of your head, or just fall down into your dick? How could you cheat on her knowing that?"

Xander seemed to be finding it very hard to meet her eyes, and as he shifted his weight again uncomfortably, hands in his pocket, he exhaled, trying again to come up with an explanation he didn't seem to possess as he raised his eyes to Faith's.

"I don't know," he said quietly. "I never meant to, I swear. It was just…it was like a fluke, or something…except it kept happening." Seeing Faith's darkening expression at this inadequate reasoning, he rushed to further explain himself. "We never, it was never more than kissing, just a little- not even a LOT of kissing! Not even with- okay, I know, that's not, it was wrong," he backed down quickly when Faith's eyes glinted, her fist unconsciously clinching, and his eyes slid down to it uneasily before he looked up at her again, taking a deep breath.

"I never meant to cheat on Cordy, I swear. I never would have if I thought about it. I just…kinda didn't think about it. At all. I just…kinda did it."

"Not drawing up a detailed plan on how to cheat on her doesn't make you suck any less," Faith shot back, her words tightly controlled as her eyes bore into his, jaw tensed. "You KNEW about everything that happened because she was dating you. You KNEW. Did you seriously have ALL other functioning in your brain leave the second your dick started doing the thinking? Shit, I knew guys do that, but can't you assholes even TRY to prove me wrong once in a while? You hop in bed with me and call me a skank afterward but meanwhile you make out with another girl while your girlfriend was giving up human beings to date you?"

She hadn't meant to circle this back around to herself and felt her cheeks flush slightly, as much with irritation at herself as with him. It wasn't like she still resented him for her own sake…it was just…not really, anyway. But this thing with Cordelia…she didn't know what outcome she was looking for, but at the very least, if she was going to be around both Xander and Cordelia for any length of time, he had to know what she thought. And he had to do something to make it somewhat better…though what that could be, she had no idea.

"I…I know," Xander mumbled, his face reddening, head slightly bowed, and when he finally looked up at her again, though he still spoke quietly, it was with a seriousness and sincerity in both tone and expression that Faith had so rarely observed in him that she stilled, startled.

"It was wrong," he told her, holding her gaze with his, drawing himself up more firmly with some effort as he spoke. "It was wrong, there was no good excuse or reason, it was stupid, and I wish I never did it. I wish I could take it back…because I cared about Cordy. Maybe…I don't know if I loved her, like that, anyway…but I cared about her, Faith, a lot. I wouldn't have wanted to hurt her, Faith. I still don't. and I wish I hadn't. I guess…I don't know what else to say, because that's just…well that's the truth."

Faith watched him closely, her brow creased as she scrutinized his face, analyzing his tone. But there was nothing in either but genuine honesty, shame, and regret, and after several moments she could feel her features soften in spite of herself. Yeah, he was still a complete idiot…but at least he cared that he was instead of taking pride in it like some guys might. And for that, it was hard to be still mad, even if this was gonna keep any Cordelia/Xander interactions with her kind of awkward indefinitely.

"You tell Cordelia any of that?" she asked, her fist unclinching slowly, and Xander shook his head, sighing with what seemed like some relief as he let his eyes shift briefly to her now loosened hand again.

"Not exactly…I mean, I tried a couple of times…and she kind of wouldn't let me," he said sheepishly, shrugging, as Faith rolled her eyes. She could well imagine exactly how Cordelia must have made it clear that she had no desire to hear anything he had to say to her, even apologies.

"Well maybe you ought to get around to telling her now. If you survived lunch with her you'd possibly survive an apology. Not a guarantee, but worth a shot."

By now the halls had emptied entirely, the last bell for class having rang several minutes ago, but both had been almost entirely unconscious of this, caught up in the intensity of their conversation. But now both glanced around themselves, suddenly aware of the space and quiet around them, and Faith backed up a little, taking the comics from Xander's hand as she addressed him again.

"Look…I believe you, all right? What you're saying. I guess I don't' mind hanging sometimes…like, at least taking your comics or playing video games or something sometime, you know? " she said abruptly, just before her voice dropped, almost threatening, and she narrowed her eyes with fierce sincerity. "But if you do anything like that to hurt Cordy again, you just better get yourself gone, because when I'm through with you, you're gonna WISH you were dead."

Xander gulped in response, paling, clearly not doubting her words as he nodded quickly, his voice higher than usual when he replied.

"Uh, right…got that very scary threat stored away for future reference…thank you?"

"You're welcome," Faith said simply, a small smirk at the corner of her lips even as her eyes remained serious. But then she smiled, bumping his shoulder more playfully with hers as her expression eased, along with the tension she had felt until then, so heavily pressed against her chest.

"So were you planning on sitting with us again tomorrow? Because even if you deserve her to just kill you, she didn't today, and it was kinda alright, you know? Hey, is that a freakin' limited edition there? How the hell do you pay for comics like that when your ass is broke worse than mine is now and you don't even have a job? One more thing, man- don't you plan on going on class?"


	30. 30

Chapter 29

"After all this has passed, I still will remain

After I've cried my last, there'll be beauty from pain"

"Beauty from Pain," Superchick

"And if you are quite ready, the both of you, begin!"

With this prompt barely voiced, Faith sprang forward with catlike speed and a startling grace as well, lunging at the vampire before her with every intent of taking him down. Her advance was blocked with a swift shifting of body and one thrust up defending arm, and as her opponent struck out at her, Faith in turn shifted into defensive mode, thwarting his returning blow and attempting to land a subduing punch to the face instead. Against the wall as far from the fray as they could get, both Giles and Wesley watched her in her battle, critically observing her every movement. Wesley, as apprehensive as he always appeared in the presence of any vampire, was studiously taking notes.

As Faith ducked, then shot out a foot at the vampire's feet to attempt to knock him off balance to the floor, her pulse pounded hard in her chest, her heartbeat quickening, adrenaline strongly flooding her features, and she almost laughed aloud, thoroughly enjoying herself in her efforts. And as she landed a kick to Angel's side that made him grunt out loud with pain, Faith thought to herself with some surprise even in her focused course of action that for once, Wesley had actually had a decent idea.

When Faith had headed over back to the high school early that evening, she hadn't been too against having agreed to do so; with most of the afternoon off to do whatever she wanted, and no one to do it with for the majority of the time, she had been shocked to realize that hours with nothing in particular for her to do except roam about on her own or even hanging out in her much improved new home was dull…and if she really thought about it, she always had thought so, really. As annoying as it could be to suddenly have people very interested in and having a million questions about everything she did, it was almost much more interesting than the way she had lived before- it kept her busy anyway, and always thinking, always having to stay on her toes with her replies. And one thing it didn't allow for was much time feeling alone.

So those hours where Cordy had still been at school and Faith had had time to herself, she had actually grown bored and restless, actually looking forward to her return. She had taken a cab to Cordelia's house, still unsure of the way by foot, and when she returned to the pool house, she had found a rather expensive-looking blue bikini carefully hooked over one of the pool chairs, the exact same chair she had sat on with Cordelia as they talked the night before. Obviously Cordelia had set it there earlier that morning before she left for school, as if in open invitation for Faith to use it; it was probably her own. Even so, though Faith had been very surprised by and appreciative of the gesture, and the Chases' pool had been enjoyable to use, she nevertheless found herself bored, impatiently awaiting Cordy's return and hoping, despite her efforts to downplay it to herself, that she would stop by the pool house area when she did. The truth of this was almost scary to Faith…had she always been so easily dissatisfied with being on her own, desiring someone else present for any length of time beyond a spar or screw? She, Faith Lehane, who needed no one but herself, she, Faith Lehane, who had long ago sworn not to depend on anyone?

But she was depending on someone now, multiple someones, just for a roof over her head and clothes on her back. not because she truly needed them or could not get them on her own, in her own way…but because people could get her better than she could get for her own self, by her own resources. Still, thinking of all this as she swam in a pool not her own in a house not her own, wearing a bikini that wasn't hers either, Faith had had to work to shove these thoughts to the back of her mind, and she had been more than ready for the distraction of Cordelia's return.

Cordelia hadn't come by until late afternoon, not very long before Faith was expected back at the high school, and Faith had wandered but not outright asked if there was a particular reason she had been out later. After some banter back and forth as a dripping Faith had sat on a pool chair next to Cordelia, who had pointedly made an issue of edging away from her for fear of "ruining her dry-clean-only outfit," and a comment from Cordelia as she critically looked Faith over in her bikini about Faith looking "half decent" in it, though "of course no one could pull it off like I can," Faith had attempted to edge the conversation towards what she was really interested in knowing, in light of her earlier talk with Xander- which was, of course, where Cordelia stood with him now, after she had tolerated him sitting at the same table.

Faith had barely even had to mention lunch before Cordelia had taken her unspoken question off her hands, off and running with a reply before Faith had even thought of a way to ask. She had sat up straighter, turning to fully face Faith with her eyes opening wide with mingled disbelief and irritation as she relayed the piece of the story that Faith had missed in her later absence.

"Do you know why I was late getting home today? Do you know what Xander did? He comes up to me after school, at my LOCKER, of all places, where anyone could see, where anyone might look and sneer or start up the gossip mill off and running, trying to make it sound like we're going out again or like I just can't let him go, as if he's some great prize, as if I'm trying to beg him to come back- as IF! He was right there at my locker! And when I told him to bug off, he wouldn't leave, he kept saying that he had to TALK to me and it was SO important. So here I am figuring it must be, like, demons and apocalypses, and here everyone ELSE is probably thinking he's trying to beg for me to take him back and I still like him too much to shut him down, which was SO not the case. But I had to go with him anyway, because you know how great Buffy is about sharing important things like the world's impending doom with people- NOT. So then he takes me to this empty classroom, and he starts APOLOGIZING to me. Telling me what an ass he was and how his penis is larger than his brain and he didn't MEAN to cheat and wasn't THINKING and didn't want to HURT me. Can you BELIEVE he had the nerve?" Cordelia had said incredulously, and Faith had to admit she was surprised. Sure, she had told him he should, but she hadn't expected him to do it pretty much immediately.

"So, uh…what did you say?" she asked her, and Cordelia huffed again, rolling her eyes.

"I said the reason he's so SINCERE is he probably just wants to get in your pants again and he knows he has to get in good with me first to even have a snowball's chance in hell with you, and even then it's like a glacier's chance in hell. Then he started protesting all over the place about blah blah that's not what he was doing, he really is sorry, blah blah, until I was ready to give in just to make him shut up and go away."

Faith's brow furrowed as she kept her eyes on Cordelia's, attempting to extract a concrete response from this.

"So…you gave in? You said-"

"I said whatever," Cordelia had cut her off, shaking her head and exhaling with some impatience, but there was what looked like apprehension in her eyes as well. "He's still a stupid ass, but I don't know. It's…honestly it's a lot of work to be mad at someone."

"Not that I'm NOT," she added hastily when Faith looked at her in disbelief at her apparent total change of heart, eyes wide. "Oh, believe you me, I'm still pissed off. More than pissed off. I could still have multiple very vivid daydreams about ways to make his life a living hell matched only by the efforts of the actual Hellmouth. But actually carrying them out every time I see them, when he refuses to avoid showing his face like he's supposed to…it's not worth the energy," she sighed, shaking her head again. "And anyway, he does enough to get his own ass in trouble without me having to try to add more. All I really have to do is sit back and laugh at all his karma falling on his head most days."

And with that declaration Faith had been relieved to understand that whether or not Cordelia would ever be okay with or friendly with Xander again- and she certainly didn't expect it- at the least there would be no outright wars 24/7. Which made things easier for her, if not for them.

Shortly after their conversation, Cordelia had dropped Faith back off at the high school; it was agreed that either Wesley or Giles could drop her off at the cemetery to patrol with Buffy after, if Faith would call Cordelia to take them home after that. Faith had not been against the idea of not walking by herself, though she had protested against it; she still had the memory of the previous night's confrontation with Mr. Trick in the foreground of her memory, and she didn't want to face him, or another possible ambush by him or his minions, alone. Of course, she could never say so, never even imply the fear that spread through her chest and quickened her pulse every time she remembered his silky voice and smooth smile, every time she thought of him at Kakistos's side…

Faith had been curious as to what was going on when she walked through the library doors and saw that, as expected, Giles and Wesley were waiting for her, but Angel was too, standing a distance apart from the others with a distinctly uncomfortable expression on his usually singularly broody face. She rarely saw Angel without Buffy also being somewhere in the vicinity, and she knew that while Wesley both feared and was fascinated by him, Giles could barely tolerate him. So when she greeted them and asked about her "specialized" training for the evening, she had been surprised to hear that she was to be observed while she sparred, almost no holds barred, with Angel.

Wesley had been quick to point out, drawing himself up with pride, that it had been his idea- that as he put it, "it would give them a chance to observe and advise on the strengths and weaknesses of her technique in an actual fight with a vampire, which will nevertheless take place without the hindrance of an actual situation of concern to your welfare." When Faith had asked why Buffy was not also attending the session, Giles had replied that not only had she sparred with Angel in the past, and also given them considerably more opportunity than Faith to observe her fighting other vampires, she was also less likely to be benefited from the training, as her…"unique interactions…" with Angel could distract them both from giving it their all. From Faith, who had no such thing holding her back, they expected only swift aggression, and she didn't intend to disappoint. And so armed with a plastic stake, do as not to accidentally kill Angel in the heat of the moment, and given only the instructions to neither maim nor kill, the two were instructed to go at it, using whatever means at their disposal to take the other down.

888888888888888888888

Faith landed a punch to the side of Angel's head, her other fist jabbing at his ribs as she pressed him back in the library's cleared space, wanting to drive him towards a corner. Angel feinted left but then came at her straight on, seizing her roughly and attempting to sling her down to the ground. Faith twisted away, backing up a few steps, almost standing on her toes, as she blocked one of his blows and then turned most of her weight into a retaliating kick, sending Angel stumbling back.

She was grinning savagely now, very much enjoying herself and the adrenaline that coursed through her in the physicality of the battle as she focused all her energy on one thing only- catching Angel off guard enough to take him down. It was these moments that Faith truly lived for, the times that truly made her feel alive, when everything she knew was suspended in the heat of the fight and every moment was one in which a high degree of alertness and coordination, not to mention raw power, were essential, and she could think and feel nothing but exhilaration…exhilaration, and a certainty of her impending victory.

This was what she loved about being a Slayer…this was what Faith loved about LIFE. And Slayer or no, she had never been one to avoid a battle, even if it meant the breakout of a war.

Even in her rather staged and unconventional circumstances it was easy for faith to forget it all, to focus so entirely on Angel that he ceased becoming Angel at all and instead became a faceless enemy, simply a vampire, a threat to her of which she must defend herself. It was easy to block from her consciousness the library's small interior, the intently observing Giles and Wesley, blocking the doors, and the point of this exercise, which was to show her technique instead of to kill. It was easy to forget that the stake she held was plastic, and any injury it might cause Angel would be healed by the end of the day.

And so only the barest of restraint and very little conscious decision kept Faith back; she threw herself with enthusiasm into catching Angel off guard, hitting him where it would hurt, doing everything she could think of to take him down. And she was more than certain that given a good opportunity and enough time, she would have him pinned down beneath her, plastic stake to his heart, dead yet again, this time by her hand….and given their past issues, the thought was not unexciting.

And that was why she was so surprised when Angel managed to catch hold of her arm, spinning her in close against him and holding her to his chest with an arm as strong and unyielding as a crowbar. That was why when his eyes turned yellow and his face shifted into its vampire form, eliciting a high pitched gasp from Wesley , Faith's heartbeat sped until she could feel its rapid pulsing in her temples, and fear flooded through her so intensely she forgot everything but her belief that she was now approaching death.

With a short shriek that approached a scream in pitch and volume, Faith twisted her body with all the force she could muster, forcing Angel's hold on her to loosen enough for her to break free. For as she had looked up into his vampire's features and the inhuman glow of his eyes, her thoughts had flashed back rapidly to another vampire on another night, the wide grin further distorting his features as he pressed her against the wall with his body, one hand roughly cupping her face. The memories flickered through her mind so vividly that they seemed the present, and once again she could smell the dampness in the air, the sour mix of blood, sweat, and tears…she could feel the crushing strength of Kakistos's hand, of his body heavy over hers…and behind him there was Diana, her Watcher, eyes open but unseeing, body limp, broken, bite marks marring her skin. And as Faith looked into the eyes of the thing that murdered her Watcher, the thing that had taken away all in the world she loved, all that remained of what was hers, she knew very well she was next.

All this flew through Faith's thoughts as she stared up into Angel's vamped out face, as she felt the restrictive circle of his arm around her, and she reacted without thought, driven only by pure, self-preserving instinct and blind fear.

"Get the fuck off me!" she screamed as she violently twisted herself from his hold, only the deft balance of a Slayer keeping herself from falling to the floor. As Angel backed up quickly, his features returning to human form, brow furrowing with confusion, Faith seized his left shoulder and thrust him against the nearest bookshelf, almost toppling it with his weight as she slammed the plastic stake into his heart.

Angel snarled in pain and instinctive anger, grimacing so his fangs showed, and as Faith ripped the stake back from his chest, backing up rapidly, she almost collided into Giles, who was coming forward hurriedly to interfere. As Faith uttered a sharp cry, her hand clutching the stake drawing back as if to puncture Giles's torso as well, Giles gently but firmly gripped both of her wrists, keeping her hands at bay from him as his eyes met and held hers insistently.

"Faith! Faith, calm yourself. Stop…let go of the stake, and take a deep breath."

Without waiting for her reaction to this, he nodded towards Wesley, who had flattened himself against the wall in obvious intimidation at both Faith and Angel's actions, his face paling as his eyes darted between them.

"Wesley, see to Angel's wound. There is medical paraphernalia in the largest drawer on the right side of my desk, if any is needed, look through those items."

For once, Wesley looked only too happy to be given a command, even if it was to play nurse, and he hurriedly made his way to Giles's desk, rummaging through the described drawer. However, the prospect of who it was he was supposed to be patching up was clearly a deterrent, for he took his time to approach Angel, his expression clearly apprehensive, even terrified, though Angel had with effort resumed his human face as she pressed one hand against his heart, hiding the torn, bloodied shirt and damaged muscles of his chest from view. Wesley's hand on the kit was visibly shaking as Giles returned his focus to Faith.

It was difficult for her to draw breath. She could hear herself, breathing so heavily and rapidly she was almost lightheaded. She was shaking, her skin riddled with goosebumps even as her face flushed hotly, and her stomach sloshed and churned until she had to swallow repeatedly against threatening nausea. Faint remnants of her earlier flashback remained in her mind's eye, insistently replaying itself, but it was not only this that shook her, nor Angel's earlier actions. It was her own.

She had staked Angel. Not deliberately, because she knew a plastic stake would not kill him , or because she had known he would heal from it, or because she had a grudge against him or any other reason that had to do with a conscious knowledge of who Angel was. No, she had staked Angel because for a few moments, she had looked at him and seen something else, someone else, people who no longer even remained in existence. In that moment, Faith had seen a vampire's face, and then she had seen nothing else, because she had so swiftly reacted, without a half second's pause. Her first response, regardless of circumstances, had been to kill, and her stake had hit its mark…just like before. Just like with the human man, in the alley.

And just like before, someone could have died because of Faith's actions, because she could look at a person, and see someone else entirely. And it would happen again. If she had no control with Angel…if she could do this to a human man, before Earl's erasing…she could do this to anyone. She was dangerous…she was WRONG.

"Faith," Giles was repeating, and his grip on her wrists loosened as he continued to look straight into her eyes, trying to get her to return his gaze rather than to stare through him. "Faith, look at me. Deep breaths…good. Do you see me? Look at me, Faith. There…very well."

He briefly turned his head in the direction of Wesley and Angel again; Angel's shirt was pushed up, and Wesley was eyeing the damage apprehensively, still watching him closely, as if to give himself enough notice to cut and run if needed. But Angel, having refused bandages or stitches, was also looking towards Faith, his brow furrowed with concern now rather than anger as Giles addressed them.

"I think we can agree that there has been enough training for today. Angel, if you are to clean yourself, perhaps my office would be a better location in which to do it. And Wesley, if you will please assist him…"

"He says he needs to medical attention-" Wesley began quickly, his eyes darting with unease at the thought of being alone with Angel in the rather small space of Giles's office, even if Angel did remain human-faced, but when Giles's gaze hardened, Wesley turned towards the office quickly, medical kit still clutched in his hand. Angel too started to follow, but he first stopped in the doorway, looking back at Faith and starting to explain with a troubled expression.

"Faith…it's okay," he said awkwardly, holding one hand palms up for emphasis. "I know you didn't mean…I'll heal by tomorrow. You know I wasn't going to hurt you, right? The face, that was just to show you…you kept having your left side open for attack, and if a vampire who wanted-"

"You really had better look to that injury, Angel," Giles cut him off quietly but firmly, and Angel followed Wesley reluctantly with one last bothered glance at Faith before disappearing into Giles's office.

With this source of distraction removed from their presence, Giles again returned his full attention to Faith. Her breathing was beginning to normalize, her shaking easing, and Giles lay a hand on her shoulder, holding her gaze.

"Faith…tell me what you are thinking now."

There was no way in hell Faith would ever do that, nor would she tell him what she had seen then, the images crossing her mind as she looked into Angel's yellow eyes. She couldn't tell him that she still saw them now, could not entirely shove them out of her mind.

Faith shook her head, clinching her jaw, and took a deep breath, then released it, stealing herself against the barrage of questions she'd expected him to thrust forth at her, the prying penetration of his gaze. As she had expected, Giles did not release the gentle but firm pressure of his hand on her shoulder, nor did he turn his eyes away. He continued to search her face even as her eyes lowered, actively avoiding his, and he spoke up again quietly.

"Tell me what you saw, Faith. When you looked at Angel…did you see something that once was? A former battle, a previous opponent, a danger that was not truly present?"

His tone was so gentle and reasonable, not alarmed or commanding or sounding as if he thought there

was anything odd or wrong about it if she had, that Faith nodded abruptly after a brief hesitation ebfore she qualified herself quickly.

"It was just, it was only a second. I'm alright, I just got a little carried away in the moment, you know? Little too much into the action. You know me, sock it to 'em one two three, kinda hard to draw back sometimes…so don't worry, G, it's five by five."

Even as she said it, it was an effort to keep her voice light and unworried, to shrug and smile and dismiss the continued battle it was for her to simply remain still, look somewhere in the vicinity of Giles's eyes, and not let herself tremble. And it was even more difficult not to simply bolt out the library doors when Giles, not taking her at face value, continued to search her face.

"It has not been easy on you," he said finally, his words still quiet, measured, and chosen with care as his brow creased, assessing her. "It has not been for any of you, of course, but I am sure none of us truly realize how difficult it may have been for you particularly."

Faith waited warily, knowing that there must be more to come. There always was, when anyone looked at her like that, with controlled concern rather than impatience or dismissiveness.

He was right, of course, none of them knew the story of her life, let alone what it meant to her, not even Buffy or Cordelia. But stating and understanding that as a fact was a totally different matter than trying to change it, especially now, when it was all she could do to try to forget it.

"Sometimes," Giles continued cautiously, his tone mild, "a person who has undergone a very difficult time…a considerable trauma…may show symptoms of this trauma in her reactions or behavior. She may-"

"Or HE," Faith interrupted tightly, her lips thinned. "Doesn't shit happen to guys too?"

"Or he," Giles agreed, nodding, even as his brow furrowed a little more deeply at her continued ill of ease posture, expression, and tone and her unsuccessful attempts to conceal them. He paused before continuing with even more carefully chosen words than before.

"When…a person…lives a very stressful life style…or experiences considerable trauma…as I was saying, that person maybe behave in ways that show she…or he…is still bothered by what has happened to her- or him," Giles added quickly, still deferring to Faith's preference that he not frame his statements in a way implying he was talking about her specifically. "It, it's very common, Faith, for people of all ages and genders to develop self-protective behaviors as a result of trauma, and though yes, it is true that those behaviors can be adaptive, so that the person will be more alert and prepared to protect herself- or himself- when danger is not genuinely present, they can actually serve to do the reverse, and make the person a danger to herself- or himself- or to others. and often, a person will mistake a benign situation for a dangerous one, and the results may be very unfortunate."

"Don't know what you're getting so uptight over, G," Faith lied, even as her quick smile felt forced and painful to her face and her heart beat so rapidly she was afraid Giles heard it. "Like I said, just got a little too into the moment."

"Have you ever heard of the term PTSD, Faith?" Giles asked her quietly, and when Faith blinked, shaking her head, he explained, "it is short for post traumatic stress disorder. A person with this disorder has undergone considerable trauma, after which she- or he- is thereafter plagued with continual thoughts and memories stemming from that trauma. She- or he- may continually be reminded of the traumatic event or events and unable to stop thinking about it…she or he may have nightmares or night terrors, or feel as if the past is occurring in the present, or may occur again in the future. She or he may engage in self-destructive actions that are linked to anxiety or fear resulting from trauma, and he or she may have such anxiety at times that he or she is unable to separate reality from the past."

He paused for a long moment, eyes holding Faith's, before continuing softly. "PTSD, if one has it, can be very dangerous and distracting, but all the more so for once with an occupation such as yours- OURS. It needs immediate treatment. And your reaction, Faith, while working with Angel…I am no doctor, and cannot, of course, know for certain, but it does concern me that PTSD could be a possibility for you."

At this statement, Faith felt her face tense, her entire body stiffening, and her forced smile vanished abruptly as she stared up at Giles, taking in what he had just said and what it meant…what he saw in her. PTSD, he said…he thought she had some DISORDER, some stress DISORDER, he thought she had a MENTAL ILLNESS? Wasn't that what a disorder was, a mental illness? He thought she was MENTALLY ILL? He thought she needed help, he thought she was dangerous?

And she hadn't even told him about Earl, she hadn't even told him about the man in the alley, and what had happened with that, what had- mentally ill and possibly dangerous? Shit, what kind of HELP was he gunning towards her getting anyway, a shrink, medicine, a full time residency in a loony bin? And all this based off one little accidental staking incident where Angel hadn't even died? Why the hell had he given her a stake anyway if he didn't want her to use it?

"You think I'm crazy," she accused him with her jaw thrust forward, eyes narrowing in resentment, and he quickly shook his head.

"No, no, not at all, Faith. That is not at all what I am saying. PTSD is not the mark of an illogical mind, it is in fact a logical development, a self-protective development of the human brain when faced with severe trauma. What makes it illogical and irrelevant to actual circumstances is its extremity."

He took in a measured breath, watching her face hopefully, before continuing, choosing his words with care.

"Although traumatic experiences eliciting such responses to further trauma-triggering events is normal, often one's reaction is not proportional to the reality of the situation and may not be beneficial. It is then to one's best advantage to explore any reasons lying behind such actions and then to-"

"You think I'm a total psycho," Faith cut him off, her voice rising, intensifying, anger and resentment growing more prevalent in her tone and expression as all Giles's careful words went wasted on her. "You think I'm a total nutcase, don't you?"

"No," Giles said quickly, shaking his head, even as Faith jerked herself from being within reaching distance of him, her already cloudy expression darkening further. "No, Faith, I do not. I said nothing of the sort, and I do not think it. I merely stated that your reaction today, in light of some of the severe stresses you have faced within the past year, may be worrisome, and I would be very neglectful indeed to not share with you my concerns. Faith, you must understand that I am not blaming you or thinking less of you for it if the case were to be that you do have PTSD. It would certainly be understandable, given the extreme nature of events you have experienced and your young age- nor is it unprecedented among us. When Buffy killed the Master- or, or when my…when Jenny-"

But Faith was not able to listen to anything Giles said at that point, no matter how logically, tactfully, or truthfully it might be conveyed, with anything approaching an open mind. All her mind could focus on…all she could snatch out of what Giles was saying to her so carefully was the exact opposite of the words he was actually speaking. Giles thought she was weak, Giles thought she was dangerous, Giles thought she was crazy. Giles wanted her off his hands and out of his sight…Giles wanted her to get HELP.

But she wasn't…she WASN'T. She was NOT crazy, she was NOT going to some asswipe shrink who would look at her like a bug in a jar. She wasn't going to have people stare and whisper and give her pitying smiles, especially not now, she was NOT getting locked up, she was NOT, she could NOT, she would NOT allow that to happen!

"I am not fucking crazy!" she almost screamed, her eyes flashing fiercely as she glared up at Giles, fists balling at her sides. "I am NOT crazy, I am not going to a fucking shrink, I'm not fucking dangerous, and for someone who fucking cares about traumatic experiences, you've sure done a good job causing them! Poisoning Buffy and feeding her and her mom to a vampire, leaving me to rot in a roach hole for months because you didn't even NOTICE, yeah, no one wants your fucking HELP, Giles, I think we'd be safer living in trauma!"

The words had barely left her mouth before Faith spun on her heels and ran towards the library doors, shoving them with an impatient, frustrated near violence so they swung back and forth behind her for several moments after she had exited through. She didn't look back to see the pain crossing Giles's features or the sudden slump of his shoulders, and even had she done so, she couldn't in that moment have cared.

Instead, Faith's feet pounded on the tile hallway, carrying her out the front of the building and down the sidewalk, her arms pumping her forward. Her breathing came in uneven breakings, her heartbeat thudding almost beyond control, and it was all she could do to keep from screaming or swearing in rhythm with her steps. But with all this concentration on keeping her mouth shut, Faith had no ability left over to guard her thoughts, and they roamed freely.

Angel…Diana…Kakistos…and two men without names, one a victim by her hand, if by accident, the other who made her a victim, entirely by his own decision…each of their faces streamed repeatedly through her thoughts, blurred but still strongly present, still THERE, and Faith could not push them aside or unthink them away. She couldn't outrun them, even as she actively tried to do so, and so she ran with no awareness of where she was going, only of what she was running from.

Eventually she could feel herself growing short of breath, more so from mental exertion than physical, and her steps slowed. Making her way into an alley, Faith came to a stop, shoulders hunched, elbows cupped, head lowered as she sucked in slow breaths, attempting to regulate her respiration, to be able to regain control. Still she remained shaken, very much on edge, and was just beginning to straighten her posture when she heard quiet footsteps behind her as another stepped into the alley, and a very uncertain voice addressed her before she could turn.

"Um…excuse me…you're Faith, right? Faith the…Faith the Vampire slayer?"

The voice didn't sound like that of a vampire- after all, what vampire that was so meek would be dumb enough to approach her- but nevertheless Faith ripped a chunk of wood from the closest windowsill in the alley as she turned, gripping it threateningly in her fist. But as she took in the face of the voice before her, she felt her knees weaken, her face draining of color, and her grip on her self-made stake loosened until she nearly dropped it.

The man who had called to her, who now stood before her with darting, fearful eyes and a grimacing mouth, was obviously human, and she didn't know his name…but she knew him all the same. She had seen his face in her dreams, in her memories, enough to never be able to forget. For this was the man from the alley, from the night that Earl first came…the man that Faith had killed. And now, as Faith froze in abject horror, it dawned on her that the alley she stood in was the very same one as that night.


	31. 31

"How can you see into my eyes like open doors?

Leading you down into my core, where I've become so numb

Without a soul, my spirit sleeping somewhere cold

Until you find it there and lead it back home"

Evanescence, "Bring me to life"

The man's eyes were wide, fear stark in their surface, and he threw his hands up fast, partly as though to block an impending blow, partly as if in surrender as his gaze shifted with alarm to the wooden frame piece in Faith's hand, no doubt fearing what she might do with it. He was of average height but with a small build, and his rather nondescript face was pale even in the darkness of the alley as he regarded Faith with abject alarm.

"Don't stake me!" he blurted, his voice high, reflecting his fear as he continued to hold up his hands, backing from standing within her reach. "I'm not a vampire, I'm human! I won't hurt you, I swear! I just…I just want…I just need to talk, I-"

"What…who ARE you?" Faith managed as she swallowed hard, unable to tear her eyes away from the clearly living and breathing form of the man she had staked…the man she had killed…until Earl took the reality away.

Without any desire whatsoever to do so she found her thoughts flashing between the memory of the man's parted lips and staring eyes in death, a marked contrast between the feeling present in their gaze now, and she had to focus on standing firmly on still shaking legs, on being able to continue looking in the man's direction without turning and running away.

What if he remembered too, somehow…what if he remembered dying, remembered that it was her who had killed him? How could this be happening…how could this be real?

"I'm, my name is Finch, Allan Finch," the man said hurriedly, his eyes still darting, as though he could not remain calm long enough to continue his task, whatever that might be, for as long as he openly looked Faith in the eye. Or perhaps it was not entirely her that he feared, for as he continually looked over his shoulder, jumping at the smallest movement of the shadows across the alley walls, he seemed to be almost expecting- and dreading- another's approach.

"I worked…I work…for the Mayor," he said, his voice dropping even lower at this statement, and his eyes darted about himself nervously, yet again as he added, "But don't talk about that too loudly- or at all, if you can help it, PLEASE. If he finds out…if he knows what I-"

But Finch's worries were not something Faith could focus on at the moment; she had picked up on piece and one piece alone of what he was saying, and her brow furrowed in confusion as she addressed this alone.

"The Mayor…you work for the Mayor? Of Sunnydale? Then what are you-"

"Yes, yes- Mayor Wilkins- Richard Wilkins III, is his name, if you didn't know," Finch cut her off, leaning in closer and nearly hissing the reply, his eyes still wide and almost unblinking as he looked over his shoulder yet again before turning back to her. "Please, don't' say that so loudly…he could have spies, anyone could be watching or listening. We, we need to be brief, we need-"

"The mayor of Sunnydale sends people skulking around alleys in the dark after young girls?" Faith said with eyebrows rising, some incredulity coming into her voice, which, despite Finch's pleas, she didn't bother to lower in volume .Crossing her arms and keeping the wood framepiece loose in one hand, she narrowed her eyes at the man before her, some of her shock at his very presence beginning to taper of as she focused on what he was saying. "What, he some kind of pedo? What is it with politicians not keeping it in their pants? You can tell him I'm not interested in being the next Monica Lewinsky, thank you very much, I don't' even OWN a dress for him to stain."

"Oh, no!" Finch exclaimed, shaking his head emphatically; he seemed shocked even by the suggestion, his eyes widening further. "No, that isn't, that's not my intention at all! He would never…he isn't- he would never want or do such a thing, it wouldn't be…he would find it to be…improper, or unsavory. Not when he's not-"

"Unsavory?" Faith echoed indignantly, somewhat insulted. "One thing this body is, is SAVORY! Why would he find it UNSAVORY, is he gay? Is that this skeleton in the closet, that he's gay, because it seems like all you politician types have SOME sexual secret going on, it's like it goes with the job description."

"No…no, he's not- he didn't send me, and that's…none of that is right," Finch stammered, eyes darting again; he seemed terrified at the very possibility of someone overhearing them, as if he feared his big bad boss the Mayor would somehow know, no matter how many miles away he was. "I, I work for him- I'm one of his assistants- but he didn't send me…I came on my own. I've been hoping every night to find one of you…to catch you alone where you could…if he knew I was here, and what I'm doing…"

Suddenly he reached out and grasped hold of Faith's arm, squeezing it lightly as his eyes bore desperately into hers, near panic in their surface.

"You can't tell him- you can't let him find out! You can't ever let him know I talked to you, he can't know it was me!"

"Why, you scared he won't let you have a longer lunch break?" Faith rolled her eyes, even as she tensed at his touch, pulling her arm from his grasp with a little more urgency than she wanted him to sense in her. She stepped back, her skin prickling where he had touched her, despite the brief amount of time his hand had made contact with her skin. Though she could mentally acknowledge that the present was reality, that for Finch, it appeared as though his death had never happened, this was not the case for Faith, and it continued to be a struggle for her to stand in front of him and have a conversation. He was still in her mind at least partly dead.

"You seriously think I'm going to go chat up the MAYOR of all people, to tell him about some creeper stalking me in an alley? Not exactly something on my to-do list, so why don't we call it a night and go about our own merry ways," she proposed, attempting to sidestep him, but Finch moved with her, the desperation even more prevalent now in his tone.

"You don't understand!" he cried, his voice rising even despite his paranoia of being heard; he made a gesture with his hand as if he wanted to reach for her, but then let his hand drop back, drawing in an uneven breath. "You have to stop him! You have to…because if you don't…he'll eat all of Sunnydale alive!"

That dramatic exclamation was more than enough to stop Faith in her tracks. She had started to back away from him, intending to leave, but now she turned on her heels and stared at him. This was Sunnydale, home of weird occurrences, scary monsters, and fairy tales gone grisly…but an evil Mayor wanting to devour his domain sounded even more like a bad joke than her usual mission-of-the-weeks.

"Are you high?" she asked with some suspicion, crossing her arms again, but Finch shook his head vehemently, grasping onto her renewed attention and plunging ahead with earnest intent.

"No, of course not, I don't…I'm not…you have to believe me, you have to listen, and do something about it! You and the other Slayer, you have to-"

"Me and the OTHER SLAYER?" Faith cut him off, almost yelling. "How did you know I was a Slayer? How do you know about Buffy? How long have you been fucking stalking me?"

"No, no, I haven't- not me- I haven't been stalking you, or her, not me!" Finch hastened to clarify, his eyes moving with apprehension to the wood in Faith's hand, and she didn't fail to notice him moving away from her, as though fearing any sudden movements of hers to come. "Not me, him, the Mayor…he, he's been watching you, having people track you, even try to…well, he's been learning you habits and moves…he could be having someone watching right not, there could be cameras, or bugs! That's what I'm trying to say, we, we have to be careful! I need…I better just say it, before, before it's too late…"

He swallowed, looking around again, and then leaned in closer, his voice hushed.

"You have to destroy the box of Garvak."

This had hardly been the important declaration Faith had been expecting. For one thing, she didn't know what the hell he was saying.

"The what?" she raised her eyebrow again, still crossing her arms, and Finch made a nervous gesture for her to lower her voice, still looking around himself uneasily every few moments.

"Shhh…the box of Garvak…the Mayor, he needs it to carry out his plan. He, he's going to use it to ascend- on graduation day, at the high school. Not the box, I mean, he'll use it before then…the ascension. He's going to rise up into a full demon…and there are no others like that now…you're a Slayer, you must know, you must understand what that means! You have to destroy the box! Before it's beyond your hands!" Finch almost choked, and Faith struggled to process this, to piece what he was saying into some semblance of sense.

"Your boss…wants to become an evil demon…and you're ratting him out?" she asked slowly, and Finch flinched.

"I wasn't…I thought at first, his assistant, it could, it would be a good…career move," he said, almost flushing as he ducked his head before looking back up at Faith with pleading in his eyes. "But then I really thought about it and…when he's a full demon…he probably won't remember who I am, or how I helped, and…and I don't want to get eaten."

That seemed the full extent of his reason to turn away from evil and betray his boss, who he had been serving in god knows what way up until this point, apparently. Faith waited, but when no further explanation came, she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"You want to stop being evil…to save your ass from becoming a demon's lunch?"

When Finch's sheepish expression and colored cheeks were more than enough of a reply, she sighed again, refocusing. "Okay. So, I need to destroy this box…or else kill the Mayor?"

It would be just her luck if this guy was setting her up to get herself thrown in prison, just for kicks…better to find this box, if it even existed, and destroy it, than commit Mayor-cide if she could manage.

"So where exactly is this badass demon-raising box?" she asked, and Finch shook his head, correcting her.

"No, no, you can't, you won't be able to kill the Mayor…at least not now. He, he's had a ritual done to himself, until graduation day he can't be harmed…he's completely invulnerable. So yes, the box, you have to, you have to get the box and destroy it," Finch repeated, and he was completely focused on Faith for the first time, his eyes not straying from hers as his voice dropped. "You have to do it SOON. I, I can't stay- and I can't help you- he may have someone coming, someone could show up at any moment and figure out-"

"Good call, Mr. Finch," a voice drawled from behind Faith, as slow footsteps sounded from a slight distance, marking their owner's unhurried entrance into the alley. "You were just a tad off the mark, though…because I'm not just now showing up for the party. I've been here all along, not that either of you noticed when you came by in such an all-fire hurry. Funny how those things work out."

As both Faith and Finch froze, Faith's hand gripping the wood in her hand so tightly splinters began to dig into her palm, and Finch's mouth opening without speaking, his face losing all color, Mr. Trick grinned, tilting his head at an inviting angle as he turned his attention to Faith.

"We meet again, Slayer. Ready to dance?"

As she looked across the alley into his glinting eyes and amused smile, at the smug satisfaction of his posture, Faith knew she should run forward and punch the smile straight off his face, that she should start up the fight that Trick seemed in no hurry to get to. she knew she should be feeling a savage rush of adrenaline and rage, that she should be immediately launching into action and obtaining her revenge against him. She knew she should be doing something, anything, other than standing stock still beside the almost quaking Finch and staring at him, allowing him opportunity to make the first move.

But faced with Trick again, without the assurance of back-up with Buffy at her side…in those initial moments she was unable to act on what she should do in the present, for once again she was mentally struggling, trying to keep from drowning in the mental cesspool of her past. Standing in the alley, Faith was also standing in the doorway of her motel as Kakistos, flanked by Trick, clawed his way inside…and yet she was also shivering in a dark warehouse, lightheaded with horror and fear, the smell of her Watcher's blood heavy in her nostrils. In three places, three periods of time, Faith stood rooted, seeing them and feeling them all as clearly as though they were one, and in this unreal state she could not, in that moment, form any sort of response to Trick's baiting.

Finch, however, remained solidly in the present, and it was his present terror that colored his words and tremulous tone as he swallowed convulsively, eyes glued on Trick's relaxed form almost without blinking, shining with his fear.

"M-Mr. Trick," he stammered, licking his lips; he too appeared unable to move. "How did…how did you find…"

"Let's just say that you're not a tough one to follow," Trick smirked, flexing his hands before him idly and raising an eyebrow before flicking his fingers towards Finch. "Especially with a nifty little tracking device on your collar."

He laughed, shaking his head as Finch's hands immediately began to fumble around his shirt collar and shoulders, feeling for the alluded to device. "You think I slapped you on the back earlier out of a sense of camaraderie and companionship? I might be a generous guy, but even I've got my standards on that," Trick sneered, and he laughed again, shaking his head as his head swiveled between Faith and Finch, seemingly savoring the moments of their confrontation.

"Soo, the Slayer and the Mayor's betrayer," he drawled, rolling the words in his mouth with satisfaction. "I like the sound of that…has a nice ring and rhythm to it. Wonder if he'll agree…"

"I-I didn't mean…I wasn't-" Finch started to stammer, but Trick held up a hand to stop him, chuckling as he continued to shake his head.

"You don't have to explain anything to me, my man- this is nothing but good news for me. You and your little roundabout SHIFTING to the other side can't do anything but make me look like the faithful upstarter that I am in comparison. Might even get me promoted, nice big raise…no, you don't' have to explain a thing to me, I'm seeing it all REAL clear here."

His eyes slid to Faith then, and he addressed her, his tone light, almost playful.

"What's the matter, girl, cat got your tongue?"

"You were with him," Faith blurted before thinking, her tone fierce, the hand not gripping the wood piece slowly forming a fist as anger began to work its way through her at last, though not quite enough yet to override her shock. "You were with Kakistos."

"Him? All in the past- moved on to better pastures and greater masters," Trick shrugged, his teeth gleaming with his broad smile. "We all have to start somewhere to make our way to the top…and some of us have to FINISH."

He turned his attention back to Finch, his mouth twisting into a threatening near grimace as his voice dropped almost to a purring caress, even as his eyes slowly shifted to yellow, a forewarning of his approaching change to vampiric form.

"Should have figured you'd be one of the finishers, Mr. Finch…grown man like you liking Cathy comics, that right there…that's just a sign SOMETHING ain't right! But if this is your destiny…just make sure you don't go down whimpering in the end!"

With his final word almost a snarl, Trick's face shifted, fangs emerging rapidly, and he lunged forward, seizing Finch by the collar and pulling him close. As Finch yelped, eyes bulging in shock, Trick pushed his head back and pierced his throat with his fangs, anchoring him to his side as he drank deeply of his blood.

For a few moments Faith remained in her state of near paralysis, unable to reconcile herself with the very reality of what she was seeing. She could hear herself breathing in raspy, shuddering exhalations, her heart beating with a harsh, hammering lack of rhythm that left her even more agitated than the situation itself could elicit. There was a roaring in her ears, a tingling numbness in her limbs, and as she stared at Finch's helpless form, at the vampire so callously taking his life before her eyes, yet again it was multiple faces, multiple people that she saw…multiple eras of time she was experiencing, not all of them entirely in the present.

This could not happen again…she could not let this happen again. This could not happen again, this could not happen, this could not happen!

Those repeated and increasingly urgent thoughts were enough to break Faith out of her few seconds of inertia, and as renewed strength and a sudden intense flare of rage surged through her, she lunged forward, seizing Trick by the shoulders and forcefully ripping him from Finch's sagging form. As Finch crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath in wet, choking efforts that made Faith's heart skip a beat, she buried her self-made stake in Trick's heart, a certain grim satisfaction tensing her muscles and clinching her stomach as she watched his eyes widen, his mouth open to form words he never spoke before he burst apart into dust, scattering off before her. But her satisfaction was very brief, and when she turned back towards Finch behind her, the hard lines of her face softened, the thin set of her lips relaxing into anxiety and fear. For with one look, she could tell that Trick had in those few moments she had not acted already taken too much blood…with just one look, she could tell that Finch was not going to survive.

No. No, no, no…this couldn't…no…

Her heart in her throat, Faith dropped to her knees beside him, gently taking him by the shoulders and turning him so he was lying flat on his back, but this position somehow seemed to put more pressure on his lungs, for Finch began to choke, his already deathly white face paling further as he struggled to draw breath. The wounds on his neck were not bleeding but instead stood out as deep holes, the exit site of the majority of the blood in his body. As his eyes met Faith's, shining feverishly with his panic and pain, Faith bit down hard on the inside of her cheeks, casting desperately for what to say, for some way to make it right as she propped him up into a seated position, hoping to ease his difficulty in breathing. This could not be happening, not now, not again…no, no, NO…

"It, it's okay," she said shakily, and even she could hear that her voice was too desperate and unsteady to be convincing. "Do you hear me- Mr. Finch- Allan- it's going to be okay. We'll get you help, we'll…I'll make sure…just hang in there, you're going to be okay. You'll-"

But Finch was fading fast, his breaths more and more drawn out until they seemed hardly more than sporadic sputtering, without being able to inhale. His eyes did not blink, and he sagged under her hands, seeming unable to manage enough strength to sit up on his own. For a moment his mouth opened, and he tried to speak, but no sound emerged, even as Faith leaned closer, trying to make out his intended words.

And then he went still, the breath he had been trying so hard to exhale never fully let out, and as his body grew heavier, a literal dead weight in Faith's hold, a sudden glaze came over his eyes. Faith knew that nothing she did now would help him, that yet again, she was too late. For the second time, in only a few days' time, Allan Finch was dead. And for the second time, she was not only present, but at least in part responsible.

She had let him die…she had not moved, she had not acted, and she had let him die. If she had leapt at Trick, the second she saw him in the alley…if she had got him in the cemetery with Buffy, or back at her motel room when he had first came…god, if she had moved right away, when he had grabbed Finch today, even…if she had just moved, if she had not just stood there like a frightened little idiot and let all those seconds go by where Finch was losing blood, all that time where he would have been that much more likely to be saved…

But not, she had stood there, and she had watched Trick talk, watched him grab Finch, watched him drain his blood, and she hadn't moved. She had stood there and not MOVED until it was too late, until there was already nothing she could do. Why? Because she was fucking SCARED, of a VAMPIRE, she was a Slayer and she was fucking scared of a VAMPIRE, a vampire it had taken her all of two seconds to stake once she got around to trying! Because she had been unable to stand in the present without falling back into the past, unable to see reality of what was now without picturing too the unreality of what had been.

Faith's mind went back unwillingly to Giles, to what he had said to her so intently, with such concern, in the library…that she had a disorder, that she was traumatized, that her past and her present were one and the same…that she was dangerous. She had not wanted to listen, she had not wanted to believe…but Giles had said she could be dangerous, and there was the proof, another body at her feet.

This was her second chance, her second opportunity to keep this man from dying, and she had failed again. This was her second chance, and even Earl would not give her a do-over twice. She had failed…she had failed, and if there was a hell in the afterlife, she didn't have to fear it, because Faith was living it in the present, she was pretty damn certain.

With a shuddering exhalation she eased Finch's body to the ground as quickly as she could, suddenly unable to bear any further contact with him. Staggering to her feet, she began to run with clumsy, stumbling gait, not knowing where she was going or what she would do, only that she could not stay looking into the eyes of a dead man, a man she could have saved, for a single more moment.

She ran until her heartbeat thudded as hard and fast as her footsteps in her ears, until her pulse pounded in her temples and her muscles shook, her breath coming in gasps that were near sobs. She ran until she felt nauseous, until she was unable to determine where she was or how long it had taken her to arrive, until tears stood in her eyes so hotly it took tremendous effort to hold them back. She ran, but she could not escape from the memory of Finch's silently moving lips, his bleached-white skin, the smug grin on Trick's face as he pulled him close, as though he knew, somehow knew she could not stop him. Faith ran, but physical distance could not be matched by emotional and mental distance, and eventually she was forced by a sudden and severe cramping in her leg to stop, gulping for breath, squeezing her eyes shut tight against persistently threatening tears.

She had failed.

She was not sure how long she sat in the middle of the mostly empty parking lot, slowly massaging her leg, listening to the sound of her own breaths and heartbeat in an effort to block out all else, before she remembered the cell phone in her pocket, given to her by Giles earlier in the morning "in case of emergency." Well Faith didn't know if this was an emergency, but she did know with sudden intense clarity that all she wanted then was to hear another voice, the voice of someone alive and human…someone who, at this moment, was much more confident of herself and of Faith than Faith was.

All she wanted was to go home.

With trembling fingers she dug the cell out from her pocket, fumbling with it for a few moments before finding and dialing Cordelia's number. As she waited anxiously for her to pick up, shoulders hunched, drawing in a deep breath, Faith could feel her stomach unknotting itself slightly just in anticipation of Cordelia's arrival…in anticipation of what, for the first time, she had thought of as her home.

"Cordelia? It's Faith. I…can you come get me? I need…I need you to come get me. Please…please bring me home."


	32. 32

Chapter 31

"After all that I've been through

Now I realize the truth

That I must go through the valley

To stand upon the mountain with God"

"Mountain of God," Third Day

When Faith hadn't showed up in the cemetery ten minutes after the time they had agreed to meet, Buffy took it as a given. Faith was hardly what one could call punctual, and as it was, it was easy to be detracted from getting anywhere on time when one lived on the Hellmouth, especially after dark. Buffy waited with good grace for the first ten minutes or so; even within the first thirty minutes, she was sure that Faith was simply delayed, or operating on her own Faith-y timetable.

But when two hours had passed and there was still no sign of the other Slayer, nor so much as a phone call, it was obvious that Faith was going to be so super late that her eventual presence would be pointless, or else Faith wasn't going to show up for patrol at all. Either way, whether Faith was careless with time or standing her up, it amounted to the same thing: she wasn't there.

And Buffy was pissed off.

It figured, she thought to herself savagely as she put her anger at Faith out onto the vampires foolish enough to make themselves known to her, Faith's face burned into the foreground of her mind as she kicked, punched, and staked her way through the cemetery grounds, finishing off all spotted vampires with more fierce focus than usual. It just FIGURED that Faith would blow her off, like usual, like ALWAYS! She ALWAYS did that- she would just up and leave whenever she felt like it, or else never show up in the first place, and because she was Faith and not Buffy, she could totally get away with it, everyone just shrugged and expected it! Faith never took responsibility for ANYTHING, she never kept her word, she just did what she wanted, when she wanted, and left all the real work or the work she didn't feel like doing to Buffy, and how was that fair?

It was bad enough that Angel had bailed out on doing anything with her today, saying he "had something to do," which was typical cryptic and Angel-ish, but then Faith bailing on her too, when Buffy was bending over backward trying to be a good friend to her? It was stupid, that was what it was, and it was rude, and, and- not fair!

Her miffed train of thought continued as she paced the cemetery grounds rapidly, not looking for vampires so much as trying to give vent to her anger and resulting adrenaline increase, to bleed some of it out and away from herself, though she had very low success in doing so.

It wasn't fair at all, nothing about how Faith acted was fair! What, just because she was training now, which she should have been doing all along anyway, which she hadn't been, she gets to look like this good obedient Slayer all of a sudden, and meanwhile she's still leaving Buffy with all the responsibilities, with all the REAL work?

Catching side of a shadow out the corner of her eye, Buffy turned her body rapidly, recognizing it as a vampire and rushing forward to meet it stake on. As she began to hit with determined conviction, even fury, it was still Faith she was seething over.

SHE did all the work- SHE was the responsible one, and all Faith did was talk a big game and go slinking about wherever she wanted meanwhile, not caring that everyone else got stuck doing what she wouldn't. She was probably out partying- she was probably out drinking or dancing up close to some guy dry humping him. She was probably off with Xander again- oh no, ew, bad thought, very bad thought, now she was even causing bad thoughts when Buffy was fighting for her life here!

Not Xander, Buffy wasn't even going to think about Faith and Xander, not like THAT. No, Faith was probably hanging out with her new bestest buddy, Cordelia, and meanwhile totally forgetting Buffy, who was her sister SLAYER, if she didn't remember, and who was trying way harder than Cordelia! Just because she didn't have a huge house- she would have let Faith stay at her house! Well, probably, except it would be so crowded, and her mom would invite her to stay forever, and well, Buffy wasn't sure about that idea, because there was time together and then there was time TOGETHER. But she could have asked anyway, Faith could have OFFERED to stay there!

But no, she's probably off yucking it up with her new bestest buddy Cordy, and meanwhile Buffy could be getting ganged up on by a pack of a dozen vampires with no one there to help her. Not that she needed help. No, she didn't need Faith's help, she would never need FAITH'S help!

"I don't need her help!" she yelped aloud indignantly, as she punched her opposing vampire repeatedly in the face, eyes narrowed as she felt his bones crunch under her fist, and he was quick to agree, nodding vehemently and desperately. "I don't EVER need her help, I've been doing this on my own forever without her, and I still can, I don't NEED her help!"

Still, it would be nice to have her help. But no, Faith totally wouldn't give it, and if it were up to her, Buffy could be another walking undead Sunnydale statistic right now.

Buffy just didn't know what Faith's problem was, she fumed as she began to pace the cemetery again one more freshly dusted vampire later, her face creased into a heavy scowl. Okay, granted, Buffy hadn't known a lot of stuff she was going through. Granted, Buffy hadn't really asked, paid attention, or thought about it. But Faith could have said something, Faith could have let her know how she felt, and, and Buffy was going through bad stuff too! Buffy had got kicked out of her own house and spent a summer working as a waitress, Buffy had killed her boyfriend and then had him come back and be confusing and tempting, Buffy had stuff too! And she'd been trying, ever since she knew about Faith she'd been really, really trying to show her how much she cared and that she still wanted to be friends, she'd been a really good friend, or she would be if Faith would let her! Faith went on about how no one paid attention to her or cared, but now that Buffy's trying, she just pushes her away! Faith won't go shopping with her or come over for dinner, she won't sit with her or talk to her much, and she's even stopped teasing Buffy and touching her all the time and trying to embarrass her. It was like she's trying to totally ignore her or had decided she hates her or something, and Faith didn't even act like that when Buffy wasn't trying so hard!

Ever since that night they had so much fun slaying together, Faith's been acting so weird, but Buffy couldn't figure out WHY. It couldn't be that Faith was guilty over getting arrested, or worried, because that had been a few days before, and anyway Faith hadn't seemed worried. She thought it was a joke, Buffy was the one who was worried. It couldn't be that Buffy had hurt her feelings or something, because she had FUN that night. It just didn't make sense why Faith had totally changed how she was with Buffy, and it was driving her insane. Maybe that was the whole point, Faith screwing with her head…but between that and Faith standing her up, it was just selfish. And Buffy wasn't going to take it.

As soon as this final thought crossed her mind, for Buffy, any further attempts at slaying were over. Turning on her heels abruptly, she began to stride out of the cemetery with long, driven steps, chin lifted, jaw tensed, stake gripped tightly in her hand. If Faith wouldn't come to Buffy, well, Buffy would come to Faith. And if Faith didn't like it, Buffy just HOPED to have something to fight with her about, because she was through with her mixed signals. It was time she got very clear signals, even if she had to force Faith to put them in writing or act them out through mime.

It took a shorter time than Buffy would have figured to get to Cordelia's house from the cemetery on foot. This may have been because her rapid stride, as time progressed, had given way to nearly a full on run. As Buffy finally came before the Cords' gates, her heartbeat heightened, adrenaline coursing through her blood strongly, she was momentarily halted as she looked at the security code area and intercom. She was in no mood to call Cordelia to the front to verbally wrestle with. After a few moments' hesitation, she simply grasped the gate rails and used her momentum and the bracing of her feet to vault herself up and over, bypassing the issue entirely. With some self-satisfaction grimly curving her lips at this accomplishment, Buffy began to circle the property, heading towards the pool house area with the assumption that if Faith was present, she would be back there somewhere.

It wasn't very long before Buffy saw the side of the poolhouse and the gate surrounding it and the pool, and she picked up her pace, already thinking to herself all the things she would say to Faith if she were there. And as she came closer to the small gate's entranceway, Buffy saw with some triumph not quite matched by her indignation that her guess had been correct. Faith was indeed in the area, right by the pool- and of course, Cordelia was with her, sitting on the very saw lawn chair, right beside her.

Buffy could not see Faith's face, only her back and the back of her head; she was wearing a jacket for some reason instead of the tank top she'd had on at school earlier that day, even though it wasn't cold. Her shoulders were slumped forward, her head bowed, arms hugged against herself as though she were chilled, but Buffy's eyes skimmed over these details without really registering them, instead focusing on the jacket itself…a jacket she realized with a jolt was Cordelia's.

CORDELIA had given Faith HER jacket? When Faith wasn't on the verge of death from hypothermia or something? Why the hell would she do that- for Cordelia, giving anyone ANYTHING, especially clothes, even as a loan, was like giving a diamond-encrusted half of a best friend necklace!

…she hadn't, had she?

As Buffy's eyes shifted to Cordelia, she didn't fail to notice that Cordelia was not only sitting on the same chair as Faith, which was wholly unnecessary in Buffy's opinion, she also had her head tilted near Faith's, her body turned towards hers so their knees touched lightly, as she talked to her in a voice near a whisper. And Cordelia was touching Faith, she had her hand on her arm like she did that all the time, like it was just NORMAL or something.

What the hell would Cordelia be saying that was so secret and private she had to say it that quietly, when she didn't even know anyone else was around? Or did she know? Had she seen Buffy there and was just playing it up now, trying to show her how much fun she was having with Faith while Faith was skipping patrol? Was this all just to spite her?

And then…THEN, as Buffy watched, already fuming, Cordelia slipped an arm around Faith's shoulders, briefly leaning the side of her head against Faith's. And for Buffy, that was the final straw.

As a sudden intense burst of anger and jealousy shot through her at what she thought to be all too pointed affection, Buffy almost ran to the fence, fumbling with opening the gate to the pool so loudly that Faith and Cordelia turned their heads immediately, staring at her with obvious astonishment as Buffy wrestled with the stubborn catch. Faith in particular appeared pale and spooked, even agitated, her eyes very wide, and this angered Buffy further. What, was her Slayer hearing so focused on her new bestest cuddly buddy Cordy that she didn't even hear Buffy coming? Had she been planning on feeding Buffy some big lie about fighting off ten vamp nests or rasslin' more alligators as an excuse for why she had stood her up? And why the hell was the stupid gate so hard to open?

With a frustrated cry Buffy finally vaulted herself over the much smaller fence, giving it an impatient shove before striding over to where the other girls sat together, Faith's shoulders still trapped under Cordelia's arm, and stood over them with one hand on her hip, glaring down at them as her ears began to burn. Cordelia was glaring back up at her, Faith still appearing in shock at what Buffy assumed was her appearance, and neither girl's reaction deterred Buffy from her intentions to say exactly what was on her mind, exactly as she thought them- especially since, when she opened her mouth, Cordelia beat her to it.

"Buffy, what the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, and if Buffy had thought she was angry before, it was nothing in comparison to then; it was this remark that provoked an even more fierce speech than initially planned.

"You stood me up AGAIN, Faith, you did it AGAIN, you just didn't show up AGAIN!" she exclaimed, standing over the other girls and gesturing for emphasis, sandy eyebrows slanting towards her nose. "You keep saying how we all ignore you, well I've been TRYING, Faith, really trying HARD, and you keep not letting me, you keep backing off, you keep telling everyone how we don't pay attention to you, but when we do you just run the other way and won't let us, so how can you say that, how are we supposed to if you won't let us? I talk to you and you don't talk back, I sit with you and you act like you don't really want me to, I invite you to dinner, TWICE, and you don't come, I ask you to patrol with me, to go shopping with me, and you don't show up, what is WITH that, Faith! You act like you can't stand to be around me! But you'll talk to CORDELIA, you'll sit with CORDELIA, you'll skip patrol to hang around whispering secrets with CORDELIA…what, is it because I'm not rich enough or something, because I can't off her four course gourmet meals and whatever else? Well my mom is a single mom, she does the best she can just, and because we don't have anything fancy like-"

"Shut up, Buffy!" Cordelia interjected, her own eyes narrowing at Buffy's discourse, and Buffy turned on her gladly, more than willing to redirect some of her hurt and anger onto her, her presumed rival.

"I wasn't talking to YOU, Cordy, I know that's never bothered you before, I know you just butt into any conversation you want, any time you want, but I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to her. I was-"

But as Buffy turned her eyes back towards Faith, who had been sitting wordlessly throughout her tirade, giving no response, her words halted as she finally registered the brunette's appearance, the continued strain and odd haunted look about her features. As Buffy's eyes widened and she first began to realize that something must have happened, something must be wrong, she took a slow step back, her eyes fully on Faith now as her voice lowered considerably and lost much of his abrasiveness.

"Wait…Faith…what happened? What's going on?"

"Oh, you mean you noticed now- you got off your Buffy-is-such-a-victim high horse and you're actually talking TO her instead of AT her?" Cordelia said acerbically, her jaw set, posture tense and angry as she looked up at Buffy boldly, forcefully meeting her eyes. "Well guess what, Buffy, you're talking to me first."

Unwinding her arm quickly but with a gentle fluidness of motion, Cordelia stood, still holding Buffy's gaze strongly. Half a foot taller than her, she made an impressive figure even without the ferocity burning in her eyes, and with this added to her stature, she appeared almost scary.

Faith, however, came to life at this sudden approaching showdown. Her eyes focusing, she reached out to grab Cordelia's wrist, diverting her attention to her briefly, just as Cordelia opened her mouth to speak.

"Cordy, don't," she said with surprising insistence, given the continued pallor of her face, but Cordelia shook her head, glancing back at her only briefly.

"No, Faith, she's got so many self-righteous little questions, she wants answers, it's time she got them, don't you think?"

"Cordelia, I SAID-" Faith repeated, her voice rising, and Buffy was startled to see that it was not anger in Faith's expression, but rather apprehension, fear…maybe even panic. Panic? Could Faith really feel something as extreme as panic at whatever Cordelia was about to say?

What was going ON?

"No, she's the SLAYER, and she's asking, and her conscience isn't going to let her blab it all over town, and if she's so damn insistent on knowing, well maybe it's time then," Cordelia snapped, but Buffy knew, since her eyes did not swerve from her, that it was still Buffy and not Faith that her tone was directed at. "Faith, let go of me already, you're going to leave a bruise with your freakishly strong Slayer hands here."

Without waiting for Faith's reply, or even for her to take away her hand, Cordelia focused full attention back to Buffy, eyes narrowed nearly to slits as she lowered her voice, though it nevertheless sounded every bit as fierce as before.

"Did you even CONSIDER that maybe, the entire world doesn't revolved around you, that MAYBE someone not showing up for patrol had nothing to do with how charming you are or aren't, that MAYBE they had a good reason to let a patrol date slip their mind, like, oh, watching someone die in from of them?"

"Cordelia, I said to fucking stop it!" Faith yelled, faint color flooding her formerly pallid cheeks as anger, frustration, shame, and horror flickered simultaneously and strongly over her expression, brightening her eyes until they appeared almost feverish. But it was not Faith that Buffy was paying attention to; it was Cordelia's stormy expression she could not tear her eyes away from, and Cordelia whom Buffy stared at with widened eyes and an open mouth, as she sputtered for a reply.

"What? How…who's…who died? Who-"

"Oh no, why would you want to know a thing like that, it doesn't matter, she skipped patrol, remember?" Cordelia shot back sarcastically, hands on her hips as she continued to stare Buffy down.

"Who DIED, Cordelia?" Buffy insisted, some desperation creeping into her voice. She was vividly aware of her stomach flipping over sickeningly, of her skin growing cold, of the increase of her pulse rate, and though she could hardly stand to hear what Cordelia had to say, it was worse to wait in suspense, with the faces of everyone she knew and loved, anyone that would make a significant impact on Faith, passing through her mind in a steady barrage.

"CORDELIA," Faith repeated, but her voice was weaker now; she lowered her head, her shoulders hunching, and took in a deep breath, but for now Cordelia ignored her, still focused on Buffy.

"Oh yeah, you've got it so rough, Buffy, you don't get to marry our boyfriend and screw like rabbits, because, you know, most girls' dream is to head off with a guy not one or two but TWENTY generations older who doesn't have a pulse-"

"Hey!" Buffy cut in, but Cordelia sped ahead without allowing her another interruption, her volume increasing even more markedly.

"But until the day you accidentally kill a guy, get it erased by an angel named Earl who follows you around forcing good behavior by threatening boob stealing and flaming asses and then you watch the same guy you killed die again because you weren't quick enough to stop it, maybe you could have a little more understanding for a missed patrol, because until then you totally don't get it!"

In response to this sharp reply, Buffy simply stared, her eyes growing almost comically large. It took her a good ten to fifteen seconds to come up with even her one word reply. "What?"

"You heard," Cordelia snapped, and as Buffy's mouth remained slightly open in disbelief, her eyes roving between Cordelia and Faith repeatedly, Faith refused to meet her eyes, her face flushing further.

"You have…there was…you killed a man?" Buffy aimed in Faith's general direction, and again Cordelia took up the answer for Faith, her voice still obviously hostile.

"NO, she did NOT, not anymore, it got erased, didn't you listen? And the second time she was just there. Now if you're done asking-"

But Buffy wasn't done asking anything, and had barely appeared to process Cordelia's reply to her first question before she was interrupting to pose her second, still directing it at Faith.

"You…you have an angel?" she sputtered, and when Cordelia rolled her eyes, again asking bitingly if Buffy had ears, Buffy ignored her, insistent upon obtaining an answer from Faith herself. "Faith? You have an angel…who…steals your boobs and lights you on fire…named EARL?"

It was obvious there would be no distracting her until she got the reply she wanted, so without looking at her, feeling her face still burning, her heart thudding heavily in her chest, Faith ground out her response reluctantly, knowing even this would not satisfy.

"Yes, okay, yes! Now can you just-"

But as she would have predicted, Buffy cut her off again; what Faith was unprepared for, though, was the genuine perplexity and hurt in her tone as she turned the questioning back away from Faith and onto herself.

"How come you get an angel and I don't?"

At any other time Faith would have burst out laughing at the very Buffy way the other Slayer had managed to take a slew of serious issues unrelated to herself and managed to twist them around where it was not only about her, but about competition and an injustice upon her. As it was, it was a close call, and Cordelia didn't hold back her thoughts at all.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" she blurted, looking at Buffy with the disgust and incredulity one might at someone who had suddenly sprouted two heads. Buffy ignored her, still addressing Faith earnestly, as she further explained her line of thought.

"I mean, if this is a Slayer thing, that you need an angel because you're a Slayer, well I'm a Slayer too, when is mine gonna show up? Because, well, it's not like I need one, but it would be nice to know-"

"Shit, B, you can fucking have him if you get all the shit that comes with him too!" Faith interrupted, her voice fierce, and unthinkingly she turned to face Buffy as she spoke. Something about her face must have struck the other girl, because Buffy's features changed, concern and sympathy winning over her bewilderment, and she lowered her voice.

"Okay…I'm sorry, Faith…it's just…you have an ANGEL? A REAL angel? Are you sure?"

As Faith started to stand abruptly, jaw clinched, her face darkening with barely controlled anger at the doubt in Buffy's last question, what she took as an implication of her craziness, Buffy put up her hands hurriedly, correcting herself.

"Faith, I'm sorry, I mean, you seem pretty sure…it's just, this is a lot to take in all at once, you know."

"Says you," Cordelia pointed out, crossing her arms; with all three girls standing very close to each other, they were almost touching, but all were too focused on their feelings in the moment to be very aware of their proximity to each other. "YOU'RE not the one it's happening to, you know. How do you think FAITH feels?"

"Faith is here," Faith pointed out tersely, as the thought worked its way uneasily through Buffy's mind.

Buffy took a deep breath, then released it slowly as determination began to work its way over her expression once more, empathy beginning to rise within her to fully replace her earlier anger. Well…this was definitely not what she had expected.

She turned towards Faith again, meeting her eyes squarely. "I'm sorry…she's right. I don't know. So…what can I do to help with it…what can I do to help you."

It was Faith's first instinct, of course, to blow her off. It was her first impulse to tell her nothing, absolutely nothing, that she wished that Cordelia hadn't said anything, that Buffy never knew any of it at all. What she wanted was to tell her to leave her alone, that she didn't need help at all, and especially not from Buffy.

But as she looked back into Buffy's hazel eyes, she could not deny the sincerity she saw in them, the genuine conviction in the set of her posture…the honest caring showing itself in the furrow of her brow and the slant of her eyebrows. And as Faith looked back at her, aware of Cordelia's supportive, almost defensive posture just beside her, she found herself speaking in a voice that was softer and smaller than she expected, her breath releasing in a shuddering sigh.

"That…the guy in the alley, from before…the one who…his name was Finch. He said he worked for the Mayor…"

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In the end, Faith told Buffy the whole story, or at least the Cliff's notes version, and it was more than enough to get the point across. Buffy had listened with quiet gravity, as Cordelia had earlier that night, as Faith stumbled her way through, finding it almost as hard to relay for the second time as it had been the first, even with Cordelia's supportive hand resting on the back of her arm. When she had finally gotten it out and sank back onto one of the lounge chairs, taking in several uneven breaths, the other girls had sat as well, beginning to discuss more calmly their options.

It had been decided that they would tell Giles and the others about Faith's experience of that night, in order to have their help in locating the box and stopping the Mayor, but that what happened with Finch and Faith before now and the existence of Earl would be kept just between them. After all, a demon cannibalistic Mayor was enough to worry about for now.

Just before leaving, Buffy had startled Faith by suddenly turning and grabbing her hands in both of hers, leaning close to her at an awkward angle where she stood half crouched over her, and looking her in the eyes as she asked her again if she was okay. When Faith had shrugged uncomfortably, giving her usual noncommittal reply, Buffy had squeezed her hands, looking at her with such intensity that Faith had very much wanted to look away.

"I want to help however I can, Faith…I'm sorry I've kind of sucked at it. I'll do better now…although you keeping me in the loop might help with that."

She had released Faith's hands then, and before Faith could come up with a reply, gave her a quick but tight hug before standing again, calling out a good night over her shoulder as she headed towards the pool's gate. For a few seconds Cordelia had watched her, her brow furrowed, and then she called out impatiently, "Okay, Slayer or not, it's stupid to walk home alone this late. Go up to the front gate and I"ll meet you in my car and drive you home."

As Buffy looked at her with surprise, then thanked her before stepping off towards the front gates, Cordelia rolled her eyes at Faith as she dug in her purse for her keys.

"Typical Slayer, off just asking to be bloodsucked because she thinks she's sooo big and bad….what's with you two and walking, Buffy's too skinny as it is."

Finally she located her keys and flipped them up into her hand, still muttering about Buffy to herself as much as to Faith.

"That's Buffy for you too, barging in like Nancy Freaking Drew into someone's private pool, what did she do, saw down half the fence?"

"Well, Buffy noses around, I screw up, guess she figures she has to nose because I screw up," Faith shrugged, and though her tone was light, Cordelia stopped suddenly, turning to face her as she grabbed her shoulders, speaking directly and forcefully.

"Listen to me right now, get this through your stubborn Slayer head, because I don't want to have to tell you again. What happened to Finch…who was very stupid from the sounds of it, by the way…it was not your fault. If it was, I would tell you, because I have no problem assigning blame where I see it. But this…it wasn't your fault, Faith. It wasn't."

She stared at her for a few more moments, as though assessing whether she got it, and then gave Faith a brief but firm hug rather like the one Buffy had, further surprising her with a quick kiss on the cheek before releasing her and stepping away, glancing back at her once before opening the pool gate.

"Go to bed, Faith, okay? Because you totally look like you need to. If you can't sleep, chances are I can't either and I'll see you later."

As Cordelia started in the direction of her garage, Faith watched her for a few moments before moving to the door of the pool house. It was strange…because even though her eyes burned with weariness, her head throbbed, her heart beat too quickly still to be normal, and the following day's retelling loomed before her, she still somehow felt a little better, a little lighter…like somehow, against all odds, maybe it could still end up okay.

Well, Faith had never been one to hold out on the big gambles…maybe this time, she might actually win a round or two, if not the entire game.


	33. 32

"You are more than the choices that you make

You are more than the problems you create

You are more than the sum of your past mistakes

You've been remade"

Tenth North Avenue, "Remade"

"No," Faith said flatly, without any attempt to elaborate or defend her statement; in fact, she hardly even glanced at the person who had so proposed her rejected sentiment. She didn't even bother to shake her head as she spoke; her no was so definite and final that she felt no need for further vehemence behind it.

But Cordelia Chase was not one to be put off easily, and she certainly was not used to hearing the word no. stepping in front of her again determinedly, she persisted.

"It isn't going to kill you just to try it on. It will take two minutes, less if you use some of that infamous Slayer speed. What, are you afraid you might like it or something?"

"Cor, before we ever set foot in this snob central you call the mall, I set up rules, remember those?" Faith reminded her, pushing back at the hand Cordelia thrust out at her, the hand still clutching the object of Faith's refusal. "I had a whole slew of things I told you there was no way I was gonna try on, and I damn well am not gonna buy them. Remember the list, Cor?"

"I would have said anything to get you out of Wal-Mart clothes," Cordelia rolled her eyes, partly amused, partly exasperated as she jabbed Faith's shoulder with the item's hanger. "But now that we're in the general vicinity of clothes that don't scream broke white trash, you're not escaping until you've tried on a few things that are colors not generally associated with the inside of coffins and material that didn't come off a cow's ass."

"I'd rather look like poor white trash than prissy rich bitch," Faith retorted, crossing her arms, and Cordelia smirked, arching an eyebrow. Despite the girls' words, their expressions and tones were playful more than irritated, neither truly taking offense. "But since all that hairspray and nail polish seems to have gone straight to your head, let me remind you about all the stuff I am NOT here to get. I said no high heels, unless they're attached to kick-ass boots. I said nothing that can be described as having any flower design on it whatsoever. I said no sweaters, sweater vests, sweatshirts, or anything else with the word sweat stuck in there somewhere. I said no to glitzy jewelry, girl hair crap, pants any color that can be found somewhere on the rainbow other than blue or red, and no pajamas or sleepwear of any kind-"

"Yeah, and that part is just disturbing," Cordelia cut in, snorting and rolling her eyes. "What do you sleep in, mismatched boxer shorts, underwear? Wait, I don't need an answer to that, or a visual," she added as Faith's dimples flickered threateningly into view. Faith eyed her for a few moments with a wicked grin before continuing.

"But most of all, Cor, I said no dresses. Remember that, how I said number one, I'm not trying on a dress, because a dress is the freakin' gateway to everything else? You get a dress, you have to get the heels and glitzy jewelry and girly hair things and a sweater to pull over it and all that other crap…and pajamas too, if the day ends up how you want. Even if they're only on for show, for like thirty seconds," she snickered, and Cordelia rolled her eyes yet again as she gestured to the hotly debated dress in question, still dangling from its hanger.

It was a simple enough dress; deep purple, clearly expensive, with a soft swinging skirt falling to just below the knee and a slightly low cut top. It was not a very girlish dress, or a cutesy one, as Faith would have expected Buffy to choose; it was actually rather mature and sophisticated, understated, a dress for a woman rather than a girl. But it was still a dress, and as a matter of principle, it was not going on Faith's body. At least, not today, with Cordelia thrusting it on her like this.

"What is it about you being scared to look like a girl unless you could play Mistress of Pain in the same outfit?" Cordelia demanded, looking down pointedly at Faith's black on black attire. Unlike the previous morning, Faith hadn't had the time or inclination to follow Cordelia's request for her to wear "something not-black" that morning.

"You can look like a girl without looking like a Barbie or a southern belle plantation woman, or a-" Faith started, but Cordelia interrupted, her eyes on Faith's steadily.

"Woman who looks good and knows it and isn't worried about looking like a badass at the same time, because she already knows she is one and doesn't have anything to prove? Girl who knows she can look hot without slipping to the leathery dark side of fashion? Whatever," she rolled her eyes again, sticking the dress back on the rack and grabbing Faith by the arm, propelling her towards another section of the store. "You're definitely getting at least two or three bathing suits thought, because I bet you're stretching mine out if you've been using it."

"More like actually filling it out," Faith needled, relieved to be given her way, and as Cordelia scowled back at her, giving her a shove, Faith smiled.

Considering yesterday, she never would have thought today could go so smoothly- that in fact, it could even have moments of fun. After the mess with Angel in the library and Trick, Finch, and Finch's revelation and subsequent second death in the alley, then Buffy's discovery of the truth of Earl and Faith's secret that night, Faith had been utterly exhausted mentally as well as physically when she finally crawled into bed. She had slept hard, so much so that she did not awaken until Giles came knocking at her door the following morning, arriving to drive her to training. Faith had been forced to throw on the first items of clothing she could grab, pull her hair back into a sloppy ponytail, and hurry out after him without even taking the time to brush her teeth, much less apply her usual heavy layer of makeup.

As he had taken in her unusual appearance when she had appeared in the doorway, Giles had blinked, his expression clearly showing his surprise even as he tried to cover, and then awkwardly asked her if she was quite sure she felt up to training for the day. After Faith had hastily assured him she was, Giles had nevertheless remained quiet as she walked back to his car parked outside the gate, and several times Faith caught his eyes shifting towards her, assessing her as subtly as he could manage. She guessed between her freak out in the library yesterday that had caused him to think she had some kind of disorder and her makeup-less face today, which probably made it obvious she had had less than three hours of sleep, she couldn't exactly blame him for being concerned.

Faith had been tempted to again shrug him off when he asked her the second time, to again simply avoid the conversation that was sure to be long, involved, and far beyond her preferred comfort level. But though she hesitated, considering doing so, her thoughts had shifted to Buffy, to Cordelia…for they had agreed that they would tell Giles about the Mayor, Trick, and Finch. It was necessary for him and the others to know what they were dealing with, or what they might be dealing with soon. It was going to be said one way or another, and maybe it was better to get it over with, for Faith to be the one to control what was said rather than leaving it to Cordelia or Buffy.

And so while still sitting in the passenger seat of Giles's car, less than ten minutes away from the high school, Faith had taken a deep breath, steeling herself, and then told her story for the third time, as quickly and simply as possible. Giles had listened without interruptions, his brow gradually furrowing more and more intensely, his eyes growing grave; when he pulled into the school parking lot he did not get out with her right away, but rather sat in the car with her for a time, turning to face her as he began to respond to what he had heard. It was a sign of how troubled he was that he would do such a thing, because Faith knew all too well Giles would normally be way concerned about how improper it might look for the school librarian to sit in a parked car alone with an underage girl.

Faith would have thought he would have a million questions, that he would be probing her brain like a wannabe Sherlock Holmes or something, forcing her to become more and more uncomfortable until she was living the moment all over again, right there in front of him, where he would REALLY think she was crazy. But he hadn't. He has asked her a few questions to get her to expound or clarify, and then he had sighed, shaking his head, and placed his hand gently on her shoulder, meeting her eyes…and he has assured her.

"It sounds to me, Faith, as though you did the best you could, under very trying circumstances," he had said, still lightly grasping her shoulder. "I sincerely hope you are not blaming yourself in any way for how it turned out, because I think no one else could have done any better in the moment. I thank you for telling me, and I assure you, we will get to the bottom of this business with the Mayor…and if there is anything I or any of us can do to help you in any way, please let me know. Because I very much would like to make sure it happens."

At the sincerity in his tone, clearly showing itself in his eyes, it had been difficult for Faith to conceal the sudden emotion that had been provoked in her, to keep it from rising in her throat to choke her or filling her eyes to overflowing. She had managed to nod, dragging her eyes away and clearing her throat; then with a burst of nerve she hadn't realized she possessed, turned towards him again.

"Look…Giles…yesterday, the whole thing with Angel, and how I kind of went off on you…I'm sorry, alright, it was…kind of a bad day, and it was-"

But Giles had not let her finish; he had cut her off shaking his head, giving her shoulder another light and somewhat awkward pat as he spoke. "No, Faith, it was quite an understandable reaction. It was I who mishandled the situation…and though I am concerned, and I do hold that what I was trying to tell you…about PTSD… is a strong possibility, perhaps then, and even right now, is not the time. But I do want you to understand that I am concerned…and we will certainly need to discuss the possibility again."

When they had finally gone into the library, Giles had not immediately started talking to Wesley but instead had turned Faith's training over to him today, beginning to bury his head in books. She suspected he was looking for information on the Box of Garvak that Finch had spoken of. Faith had rolled her eyes at the prospect of working with Wesley, prepared to bail if he got too full of himself or ridiculous in thinking he had any sort of authority over her, but she had been surprised when he simply asked her to go through some standard training exercises, without even seeming too terribly puffed up over the fact that she shrugged and did them, more for Giles's sake than his. Maybe the guy was scared of her after watching her practically kill Angel, maybe he had been watching Giles's tactics more closely than she thought, or maybe he wasn't as terrible an instructor as it seemed most of the time. But whatever the case, Faith had completed the morning training with only a little irritation towards him, that all by itself was the mark of a pretty good day.

Lunch had been pretty decent too; Xander and Buffy had joined Faith and Cordelia again, as Faith had expected, and she and Xander had talked enthusiastically about the comic she had managed to flip through out of the ones he lent her; even Xander and Cordelia had managed again to share a table with only snippy comments rather than maiming or death threats. Buffy managed to keep her mouth shut about everything that had happened from the night before and was just her perky self, though Faith did catch her slipping a few looks only Faith probably got, looks that told her Buffy wandered but didn't dare ask if she was okay. As Cordelia had lent Faith some makeup just before lunch for her to quickly apply in the girls' room before going into the caf, with the comment that it was "about time she used something other than 99 cent eyeliner anyway," at least Faith didn't have to field off that line of questioning.

To Faith's partial amusement, partial annoyance, Willow and Oz had joined them at their table, though based off Willow's expression and closed off attitude, this was a reluctant decision based off losing her friends more than a desire to be there. While Cordelia mostly ignored her, Buffy seemed oblivious, and Xander tried but failed to include all, Faith didn't fail to notice the way Willow looked at her every once in a while, like she hoped she would turn into a frog on the spot. For all Faith knew, the girl was trying to make it happen.

Still, it had been a pretty decent time overall, and there had been no talk about all that had gone on the night before. Faith could have almost convinced herself it had never happened, that it was some kind of whacked out dream, if it wasn't for the occasional meaningful, searching looks Buffy shot in her direction, and of course, the meeting about the Mayor after school.

And even that hadn't been as excruciating as she had feared. Obviously Giles had already informed Wesley when she was otherwise occupied, because he didn't gasp or faint or stammer a million questions. Which was sort of a shame- it might have been amusing to watch him in shock mode. Of course there had been a lot of surprise and concern, a lot of stunned looks and sympathy in Faith's direction, which Faith had been grateful to have redirected by Cordelia with her loud questions aimed towards Giles and Wesley of what they would do.

There had been no definite conclusion of that, in the end they had only agreed to remain alert, to research and search for the Box of Garvak, and also to gather as much knowledge of the Mayor and any of his employees, whether official or freelance, to get a better picture of what they were up against. There wasn't much more they could do than that.

Willow, Faith noticed, had seemed disturbed by what she heard, not just because of its meaning, but also because Finch's murder, or specifically that he had died in front of Faith, seemed to be troubling her. A few times Faith had caught her watching her with confliction in her eyes, her brow furrowed, as though her resentment was now marred by guilt and pity and she was unsure of how to regard her.

Well she could just go on ignoring, for all Faith cared. It wasn't like she wanted to think about ANY of this longer than she had to, and she damn well didn't want to be pitied.

Regardless, annoying as it was, it kind of made her feel a little less contemptuous of Wesley when he had briefly pulled her aside after the meeting and awkwardly but sincerely voiced concern for her. Faith had barely managed to shake him off, with Cordy's propelling hand a great excuse, before Xander too had expressed his availability if she ever wanted to "talk, or hang out, or just, you know, swap comics and eat potato chips."

Faith had had to smile at that; she might feel a little pushed and suffocated, and she was way more than ready to move on from the subject and forget absolutely all of the day before, or at least all but the fact that they needed to find a way to kick Mayor ass. But it was still kind of nice to have people offer, even if she had no intention of taking them up on it…it was kind of like she knew they really did care, at least in their own way.

Still, by the time Xander went off too she was ready to think of something else, anything, and as it happened, even shopping at a mall was included in that…the same mall that had snubbed her a few days before.

"It's different when you're with me holding Daddy's plastic in your hand," Cordelia had assured her, holding up a credit card as if to illustrate. "They don't just know me by face, they know me by name. Half of them have slept with Daddy or partied with Mommy. If they see you with ME, they'll never give you crap again even if you don't have a dime. In fact, you can push THEM around and they'll just take it. Just follow my lead, Faith, and welcome to the world of the privileged."

And so Faith had gone, apprehensive, but not unwilling. And watching how the salespeople did a 360 in their treatment of her in Cordy's presence, turning helpful and flattering, polite to the point of subservience, she had to see why it was that girls like Cordelia and Buffy got off on shopping. It wasn't just about the clothes…it was a total power trip.

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"You know you don't have to change bathing suits like you do underwear, right?" Faith asked Cordelia, only half joking, as the girl piled a tangle of hangers and bikinis into her arms outside the dressing room, all which she presumably thought Faith should try. In reply to this, Cordelia rolled her eyes as she shoved another hanger under Faith's arm.

"Like you would know, I bet you don't even WEAR underwear. Which is our next stop, you know, because Hanes or whatever Wal-Mart carries, if you even bothered to get any, would probably give you adult diaper rash, the fabric is so cheap. Well go try these on," she gave Faith another little push towards the dressing room stalls. "And you have to come out each time you change and show me what it looks like."

"You already saw what they look like when you thrust them into my hands," Faith pointed out as she attempted to shift the suits. Cordelia huffed, rolling her eyes.

"Not on YOU, just because a suit looks good on a hanger doesn't mean it looks good on every body. Put the same Speedo on Hugh Jackman and Jack Black and see if you don't get what I'm talking about. So go. And you have to come out and show me, remember."

"What are you, my mom?" Faith asked, rolling her eyes too, but she was already heading for the closest stall. Cordelia, of course, had a ready reply.

"Not, but I AM paying, or at least Daddy is, and I'm vaguely associated with paying. So no sleazy bikini-turned-thong kind of thing…you know, it's gonna be December by the time you get in the dressing room, maybe I should start looking at coats."

Faith rolled her eyes again, but she was smirking as she entered the dressing room, letting her load of items drop noisily to the floor. If this was how it was going to go every time she tried to buy anything, it looked like they'd be in the mall until closing time.

Grabbing the first bikini she saw, which happened to be a multi-colored striped one, with a string tie top and skimpy bottoms, Faith slipped into it quickly, looking herself over in the mirror. She wouldn't normally pick such bright colors, but she didn't think it looked too bad. Throwing open the dressing room door, she struck a dramatic pose for Cordelia, arching her neck, thrusting out one hip, and twisting her torso to make herself seem longer, leaner, and to emphasize her breasts in a playful, sultry fashion.

"Here I am, Master/Mistress. Do I meet your standard of approval?"

She expected Cordelia to snort and roll her eyes, to make some sarcastic and withering comment, to inform her that it was the wrong fit or color or cut. What she didn't expect was for Cordelia to blink, not saying anything right away, as a strange strained look came over her features…like she was uncomfortable, or wanting, but not quite able, to look away. Like she maybe was a little embarrassed or surprised, but also somewhat…intrigued? Was it INTEREST that kept Cordelia's eyes on her so unwaveringly, even as she for once didn't shout out an immediate reply?

Somewhat stunned by this unexpected reaction, which felt to Faith minutes long rather than the few brief moments it probably was, she looked down at herself quickly, trying to see what it was that made Cordelia seemingly freeze. Did she have a hole right at the crotch of her bottoms, had someone just stabbed her in the gut without her noticing it, had she just sprung a menstrual leak, WHAT? This was Cordy, after all, not Buffy, she wasn't supposed to be mortified at the very sight or mention of someone not securely covered by a snowsuit. And it wasn't like she'd never seen Faith in a bikini before, she had been borrowing for Cordelia's for a few days now.

But now that she thought about it, actually, Cordelia HADN'T ever seen her in a bikini, because every time Faith had gone swimming it had been when she was bored while Cordy was gone. Still, what the hell…if Faith didn't know better, she would think Cordy was almost checking her out.

She wasn't, was she?

"What, do I have snot dangling out my nose or something?" Faith blurted after a few moments of awkward silence, dropping the seductive pose and crossing her arms, and Cordelia's eyes snapped up to her face, quickly refocusing…but Faith thought her cheeks were a little flushed, and her voice quicker than usual.

"That one's kind of bright, but it wouldn't kill you to wear colors somewhere on the light spectrum occasionally. It's okay. The suit, I mean."

"Okay?" Faith replied with her eyebrows rising; she kept her arms crossed, a deliberate distance between them, finding herself surprisingly self-conscious now as she would not have thought she could be. "You stared at me for five minutes, either it's hideous or so much of a knockout you scorched your eyeballs."

"I said it's okay," Cordelia snapped, her eyes narrowing, jaw jutting out slightly, and she gestured towards the dressing room hastily. "You like it, get it, whatever, but there's a dozen others back there, so you should-"

"Faith! Cordelia! Hi!" called a startled but pleased voice in the distance, and Faith tensed; there was no mistaking Buffy's voice for anyone else's. No one but Princess Blondie could pull off that much perk without slaughtering hundreds of brain cells first.

Faith didn't fail to notice Cordelia stiffening too, reluctant to turn around, as Buffy approached with a surprised but genuine smile…and then she noticed that several feet behind her, much more reluctant in coming, was Willow. From the apprehension on the redhead's face, it was clear that any guilt or pity Willow might have felt towards Faith in the library was not breeding any newfound desire to hang out with her socially- or at least, Faith suspected, not with Buffy too when she had obviously expected to have Buffy all to herself.

"Hey B, Red," Faith replied as nonchalantly as possible, edging closer to the dressing room, but by then Buffy had joined them and was off and running.

"I didn't know you were going shopping today, you should have told me and we all could have gone. We could have-"

"Oh yes, that's exactly what was on my to do list for the day," Cordelia said pointedly, but Buffy ignored her, focusing on Faith. She seemed, judging from her widened eyes and suddenly awkward, slightly flushed expression, to be just then noticing Faith's attire or lack thereof, and her next beginning ramble reflected this.

"Oh, you're trying on bikinis, huh? I guess that makes sense, since Cordelia has a pool, and it's not really all that sanitary to share bathing suits between people-"

"Hey! What exactly are you trying to say?" Cordelia said indignantly, one hand on her hip.

Buffy ignored her, continuing in the same flustered fashion. But Faith was equally aware of Willow, standing a few feet away from her…for after her mumbled greeting, the girl's face had brightened to match her hair when she got a good look at Faith, and she had quickly turned away. And yet her eyes kept shifting back to her, as if she couldn't help but continually glance back…was everyone in Sunnydale really that much of a prude, was the suit that hot, or was there something in the water none of them were talking about until she stepped in as a trigger? Whatever was up, it was friggin' weird.

"Willow and I should be looking at suits too, what with summer coming up- I, I like yours, it's very bright but, it's good," Buffy stammered before looking hurriedly at Willow, throwing the spotlight on her. "Willow, what do you think about her suit?"

Willow, who had been sneaking a glance at Faith again when everyone turned their attention to her, froze, her face flushing deeper as she attempted to clear her throat, jerking her eyes back to Buffy. Faith watched her with continued interest, very much amused.

"F-Fine, it's, it's fine, I think it's…" she stuttered, and Faith, smirking now, uncrossed her arms, angling her hip slightly, as she finished for her.

"Fine?"

"You'd think you two had never seen a bikini before, or else that she was swinging around a pole with a snake around her neck," Cordelia rolled her eyes, and both Buffy and Willow flushed again, that imagery apparently too much for them. "What's with you two?"

She was looking between them suspiciously, seeming to have forgotten her own initial reaction, and Faith took the opportunity to make her escape. Muttering something about other things to try on, she backed into the stall still smirking, feeling a sudden relaxation of the tension she hadn't even been aware she was fully feeling, and reached behind her neck, untying the bikini's straps. But an amused voice spoken in an unmistakeably deep and southern tone, caused her fingers to freeze in their action.

"Were you BLUSHING out there, girl?"

Quickly double knotting the bikini's ties again, horrified at the thought of accidentally flashing him as she turned, Faith glared at Earl where he stood leaned casually against the latched door, tobacco bulging in his lower lip. She would have bet however much money Cordelia's daddy had in his bank account that he was deliberately blocking the door.

"Holy shit, for someone who calls himself an angel, you're a little peeping Earl pervert," she accused. She wasn't shy about her body- well, unless someone like Cordy, who wasn't supposed to think about it one way or another, was looking at it all awkwardly while she was half dressed- but with Earl popping in on her like that when she was two good yanks away from total nudity, Faith felt exposed. She reached to yank on her clothes overtop the bikini, still fixing a defensive stare in Earl's direction.

Earl chuckled, shaking his head as he watched her calmly, crossing his arms. "You'll hop into bed with men you hardly know from Adam, but you're worried about your guardian angel seeing you half dressed? Not understanding the logic, Faith. And anyway, you ain't got nothing I never saw before, girl."

"Yeah, because you're apparently also watching me like a total creeper every time I have sex. All the angels up there probably gather around and place bets," Faith muttered as she buttoned her jeans, still a little more flushed than she wanted to be, and Earl laughed, shaking his head again ruefully.

"You seem to think us angels are like humans with wings, Faith, and that just ain't the way it is. I watch you to protect you…I watch you to know you. I ain't interested in your body other than to hope for its healthy functioning, seeing as it's uniquely formed by God and would be a shame to watch it keep getting abused. I ain't got the slightest interest in what it LOOKS like, in OR out of the a bikini." His lips quirked then, and he added with a chuckle, "Though it looks like your friends do."

"Who, Willow and Buffy?" Faith asked, startled that Earl would notice, let alone bring it up. What, was he gonna lecture her on leading on the sinful bi-curious who didn't even know they were bi-curious yet? Was that was Buffy was…or was she just a total prude like she always tried to come across as?

She didn't even have to question about Willow. The girl was an awkward prude, Faith knew for sure…but although this was the first time she'd noticed any sign of it in her behavior, that she'd actually thought about for half a second anyway, Faith was nearly sure now that Willow had a kink or two in her total straight arrow on the narrow act. But if she could be so sure about Willow, why was it so confusing and uncertain to think about Buffy…or even-

"Looked like Cordelia wasn't exactly covering her eyes neither," Earl commented, and Faith's confused thoughts were only underscored as she tried to push them away by this remark.

"That's bullshit, she wasn't- aren't you all you God-worshipping Bible-thumping angels against gays anyway?" Faith blurted, her cheeks warming, and Earl raised an eyebrow, shifting his dip to the other side of his mouth.

"That ain't exactly true, Faith, and did I classify anyone as being anything, let alone "gay?" People ain't so easy to label with one stroke of a brush or one spoken word. I ain't against any relationship based on genuine love and respect, the sort of love that God wants all of us to be striving towards. My question is whether you ever had that sort of love before, or whether you've let yourself give it, ever since the one you loved most wasn't there to give it to," he said softly, his expression and tone gentle now, as he looked into Faith's eyes. "And my feeling here, Faith, is the answer is no."

Faith sucked in her breath slowly, not needing him to say the name aloud to know about whom he was talking; for him to do so would have stricken her to the core to hear, and as it was pain lined her throat and closed itself around her heart. She didn't want to think about her, didn't want to think even for a moment that what Earl was saying was true. She didn't want to think about it at all, but pushing thoughts away of Diana made the thoughts of Finch surface until they comingled into one, causing her to be unable to keep them inside herself.

"You let her die," Faith almost whispered, her voice much lower and unsteady than she had wanted or expected, and she dug her nails into her palms, welcoming the distraction resulting. "You're supposed to be watching me, you're supposed to be protecting me, you're supposed to CARE, and you let her die. And him- Finch- Allan…you let him die too, you saved him, and then you let him die. Why…why would you do that?"

She swallowed, clinching her jaw, attempting to make her face blank, not showing any of the emotion she felt so strongly flowing through her, the emotion that she didn't welcome as part of her. She had forgotten now her location, that in any moment another customer or even Cordelia or one of the others might enter the dressing room, finding her inside talking to what they would probably perceive as no one. She could think only of Earl and her anticipation of his reply, of the soft, shaky vulnerability she felt to her core.

Earl looked at her with his own eyes soft, compassionate, and he did not smile, matching her seriousness as he lightly lay a hand against her cheek, cupping her face. Though Faith's first instinct was to pull away, something about the warmth of his skin against hers and the gentleness of his touch felt so necessary to her in that moment that she couldn't follow through.

"It's very difficult for you to think about, let alone understand, isn't it?" he asked her quietly, and when she barely inclined her head in reply, her throat closing over, he continued to hold her face in his hand. "And you will receive your answers…some from my mouth, some from your conclusions, some from life itself. But now is not the time."

Even as he gave her an answer that was really no answer at all, between his continued touch and the softness of his voice, he must have been working some sort of angel mojo, because though her feelings did not disappear entirely, Faith could feel her confusion gradually lessening, her thoughts slowing, her emotions calming to a manageable level. She almost felt peaceful, as if whatever problems remaining could be dealt with at a later time. Earl must have seen a change in her expression, because he smiled slightly as he took his hand away.

"Go with your friends, Faith. Have fun…and that love we were talking about, the kind that's real and alive with all the possibilities of the world, whether or not it's the romantic kind everyone thinks is the only way it can go…leave yourself open to it. Because that kind of love, Faith, that's what really changes lives. and you can't have or feel that kind of love without feeling God too."

He smiled at her briefly, then vanished as seamlessly as he had appeared. For a few moments Faith regarded the spot he had occupied moments before, thoughtful without quite identifying exactly what her thoughts were. Then she removed her clothing slowly again, taking off the bikini beneath, and changed into another.

The way Earl was making it sound, God WAS love, in some way…but then how did that fit in with all the God-prescribed punishments? What was the distance between a God who let her Watcher die and the God who supposedly loved and created the world? Was it the same thing at all?


	34. 34

Chapter 33

"I will stumble, I will fall down

But I will not be moved

I will make mistakes, I will face heartaches

But I will not be moved"

Natalie Grant, "I will not be moved"

Author notes: And I'm back! This chapter is so long I had to split it in two…and yes, action will occur within the next few chapters

"This is good stuff, Mrs. S," Faith remarked, smiling up at Joyce from across the dinner table as she dug into the loaded plate set before her with gusto, swallowing the mouthful she had before speaking again, just as she realized how it must have looked for her to speak. "Thanks."

Now that she had food actually in front of her and a fork in her hand, rapidly making its way from plate to mouth as fast as she could chew and swallow while still not looking totally rude, Faith was wondering what had taken her so long to finally accept one of Buffy's frequent invitations to eat dinner with her and her mother. Sure, it meant she would have to sit through whatever questions B and her mom threw her way, but they couldn't make her answer too much as long as her mouth was full, could they? And that was something Faith was more than happy to do, because Mrs. Summers's cooking was great.

Buffy had been absolutely determined today that Faith say yes to her invitation, and Faith had been sure that if she hadn't, the blonde would have followed her and Cordy around the mall for the rest of the day, dragging the less than thrilled Willow after her, twisting Faith's arm until she was finally worn down enough to agree to get her to shut up, if nothing else. Buffy had invited Cordelia and Willow too, though to all of them, those had seemed an afterthought, but both girls had quickly declined, to Buffy's seeming disappointment, which provoked Faith to stare evilly at Cordelia, who had only smirked back silently in reply. And so within a few hours of finishing running up Cordelia's father's credit card and dropping her new wardrobe back at the pool house, Faith had found herself stepping out of Cordy's car and onto the Summers' driveway, with Cordelia smirking as she bid her own version of a heartfelt goodbye.

"If you return blonde, bubbly, and Buffy-brained, you can just stay with them," she called as she started to back out the driveway, and Faith had flipped her off amiably, causing Cordelia to scowl and roll her eyes even as her lips twitched in an effort not to smile.

Now at the Summers table, with Joyce sitting across from her, Buffy to her left, Faith caught Joyce's eye as Joyce smiled warmly.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, Faith…and to hear about it out loud," she added, casting a wry look in Buffy's direction. "Generally with Buffy, the only way you know whether she likes something is when she washes her plate for me instead of just setting it in the sink, though sometimes she does call out a thanks over her shoulder as she runs out the door," she teased.

Buffy looked over indignantly, protesting. "Hey! I do NOT do that…often."

"What can I say, B need to learn some manners," Faith smirked, nudging Buffy with her left elbow even as she took another improbably large mouthful and washed it down with a long swallow of water, more to annoy Buffy than because she was unaware of being impolite. Buffy raised an eyebrow, glowering slightly as she took a small, very prim bite herself, emphasizing the fact that she was thoroughly chewing and swallowing before she replied.

"Speaking of manners, Faith, I'm glad to see that your hands are on your own plate this time around instead of creeping over to mine."

"Hey, what you don't appreciate, you should be alright with surrendering," Faith shrugged, and to irritate Buffy further, she deftly snatched a sweet potato crisp from her plate, popping it in her mouth and grinning at Joyce, dimples flickering into view. "Excellent stuff, Mrs. S, really. Top marks."

"Hey!" Buffy sputtered, her eyebrows knitting, features tensing with growing anger. Obviously, this wasn't the little dinner scenario she had planned, which was why Faith was doing it. She didn't really want Mrs. Summers to think she was a bitch or anything, but there was no telling what Buffy might say that would be worse if Faith didn't keep her well distracted.

But Joyce was quick to step in with her own deterrence as she addressed Faith, entirely ignoring the earlier exchange. "So Faith, tell me how your training has been going. I hear you and Buffy have a new Watcher?"

"You mean Wes? Yeah, him," Faith looked back at her, spearing meat on her fork as she replied. "Yeah, it's been going good, training. The whole Slayer thing, you know. I mean, Giles is alright, he can be kind of cool, sometimes. And Wes, well, he's not that bad, I guess. Now."

"At least Cordelia quit making eyes at him," Buffy remarked in exaggerated relief, sighing. "All the "Oh Miss Chase" and "See My Short Skirts" stuff was just disturbing in a whole new level of ick."

"Speaking of Cordelia, how is she doing?" Joyce asked, her eyes shifting between the two girls with interest. "I haven't seen her around in some time. I had hoped she would come to dinner with you, Faith."

"Oh, she's good, she's, you know, Cordy," Faith shrugged when Buffy too looked at her, obviously expecting her to be the one to answer. "Guess she had stuff she wanted to do tonight, or something."

Yeah, like not hang around Buffy, but Faith didn't mention that in front of Joyce. But Joyce still seemed to be running on the Cordelia track, because she addressed her next question solely to Faith.

"I understand you're living with Cordelia now, Faith, or rather staying in her house- is that correct?" she asked, and Faith shifted n her seat uncomfortably, glancing at Buffy and wondering what exactly she had been telling her. She took a long drink of water before replying.

"Oh…yeah, well, not her house, exactly, or with her, exactly, but yeah, I guess."

"How is that for you?" Joyce asked, and the curiosity in her face and tone was clear as she tilted her head toward Faith in a very interested fashion, waiting for her response. Faith could understand her puzzlement, she guessed; Joyce had undoubtedly met Cordy enough times to wonder how in the world she and Faith, given the very different people they were, could even stand to be in the same room for long. "I'm not trying to pry, of course, Faith, it would just seem to me that it would be quite the adjustment, and the two of you might have conflict."

"What, you mean like we'd fight?" Faith asked in surprise, brow creasing briefly as she looked to Joyce, fork in hand. "Nah, she's cool. We haven't fought- not really, anyway."

At Joyce's continued surprised look, Faith felt her cheeks warm slightly, though she wasn't sure why exactly faint embarrassment was settling in her chest. Though Joyce asked nothing further, it seemed to Faith that both she and Buffy were watching her, waiting for her to go on, so she tried to explain, her words carefully selected but still awkward.

"Well, she, Cordy, I mean…I was sort of wanting to move to a new place a while…new change of scenery, you know. And, well she had a place, so it just…kind of worked."

"She offered you a room?" Joyce asked, her eyebrows lifting; clearly she hadn't expected that. When Faith shrugged, then nodded, deciding to not go into the precise details of it being more like a small house, Joyce smiled, taken aback, but pleased.

"Well, that was very generous of her…I wouldn't have expected that, but then, I always did think Cordelia seemed like a sweet girl at heart."

At this declaration, Buffy, who had been simply listening without comment up until this point, almost choked, staring at her mother with eyes widened in disbelief. Joyce, seeing her look, shook her head at her, admonishing.

"Buffy, don't look at me like that. It was very nice of Cordelia to do that, and I imagine if you would think back you would remember more incidents where that girl has done things she didn't have to do, but chose to anyway. It was sweet of her to offer a room to Faith, and honestly it's something we should have done ourselves."

Faith looked down at her plate, as much in an attempt to hide the renewed flush in her cheeks and discomfort of her expression as to focus again on what small amount of food remained. Shit, couldn't anyone just let this go already and start talking about nothing?

"Look, it's five by five," she said quickly, shaking her head. "You shouldn't have done anything, and anyway, it's all worked out-"

"No, Faith," Joyce interrupted her gently, shaking her head too and then catching and holding her gaze as she put down her utensils, focusing on her fully. "No, Faith, we should have, I should have, and I want to apologize to you for not doing more to let you know that you were always welcome to come and stay here for as long as you would like. I'm not trying to put you on the spot, but I never was comfortable knowing that a young girl was living in that awful motel, even if she was a Slayer. I wouldn't like my own daughter living there for even a day, and I shouldn't have remained silent about someone else's daughter living there for so much longer. Time and time again I thought that something should be done, but life tends to distract you from the things you should do, doesn't it?" she smiled at Faith briefly before continuing.

"But of course, that's no excuse. It was wrong of me not to speak my mind, if not to you then to Mr. Giles, since I assume he and your new Watcher are the ones responsible for you. Now don't' get me wrong, Mr. Giles is a fine man, but he's also very distracted, and he isn't a parent himself, especially of a girl, so I think he doesn't always remember that you girls ARE girls as well as Slayers, even if he tries to. And you're so independent that I didn't think you would want me messing around in your business, and well…I have to admit, I'm lost when it comes to this Slayer business," Joyce admitted, looking now at Buffy too as she included her daughter in the tail end of her words. "Buffy can tell you, Faith, I haven't even known Slayers exist for very long, and it's something that's difficult for me to understand. I know you girls are smart and strong, and you see and deal with things that as a mother I don't even want to think about, but you're still young, and I have to say I don't always know what to do with that. I guess what I'm trying to say is I feel like I dropped the ball, and I don't want to embarrass you, but I do want you to know I realize it, and I'm sorry."

Joyce's words were obviously sincere, driven from earnest feeling rather than guilt, and for Faith, this was all the more awkward…but even as much as she wanted to deflect it all and just have it over with, she also was more touched by it than she wanted either of the other two women to know.

Glancing between them, she gave both a quick smile and shrugged again, before returning to her food. "Like I said, no big deal. It all worked out."

Please stop there, she thought to herself, but Joyce reached to lay a gentle hand on her arm. Faith stiffened, startled, but as Joyce kept her hand there, meeting her eyes, she gradually relaxed.

"Feel free to come over any time, Faith, you're always welcome. And tell Cordelia the same is true for her."

Faith was sure Cordy would be thrilled by the invite- not- but she just nodded, eager to get off the subject.

"Yeah, I'll let her know."

For what seemed a long period of time to her, very, very long, an awkward silence fell between them as they continued to eat, one that Buffy, from her restless eyes and fidgeting with her food, seemed to be just as bothered by. And maybe that was the reason she chose to blurt out at that time her next remark, one she knew would invoke a reaction.

"Mom…I've been thinking about colleges," she began, and when Joyce looked up expectantly, her interest piqued, Buffy plunged ahead in an all too casual tone. "I've been thinking about not leaving to go to college. I was thinking I could stay right here and go to UC Sunnydale after graduation."

As Faith could have predicted, Joyce did not take this in stride. Her shoulders tensed, her eyes grew wide, eyebrows shooting up almost to her hair line, and she put down her fork again as she turned her upper body towards Buffy, not even attempting to hide her dismay.

"What? Buffy, of all the places you could go, all the excellent schools across the country who would be lucky to have you…you could go anywhere, Buffy, why would you stay here in Sunnydale?"

Faith could have asked her the same question; knowing Buffy, she would have thought she would want to get as far from the Hellmouth and have the normal girl life she was always griping about not having, the first chance she got. Faith would have thought Buffy would take a jet rocket out if she could. Why would Buffy stay- Angel? Wouldn't he follow her to all ends of the earth like a lovesick fanged puppy? Or was it that Buffy didn't think Faith could handle the Hellmouth on her own? That was what seemed most likely to Faith, and she scowled to herself, half listening to Buffy's reply.

It hadn't occurred to her too often, mostly because she didn't want to think about it, that in less than two months all the Scoobies would be graduating, then scattering off to wherever they were going to college. They'd all be gone, and here Faith would be, on her own in Sunnydale, and with Cordy leaving her own house it wasn't like Faith could stay there. Her life was going to change when everyone else's did too, and thinking about it now made Faith so uncomfortable she only tuned in to part of Joyce and Buffy's words.

"Because, Mom, it's the right thing to do," Buffy said quietly. She had stopped eating as she looked into her mother's face, her expression intent, almost stubborn. "How can I just go off and have a carefree college experience knowing that I left the Hellmouth behind to do whatever it wants without people stopping it? It's the Hellmouth, and I'm needed here. I'm the Slayer, and if I go to UC Sunnydale I can still do my Slayer duties."

"But honey, you can't just throw away an opportunity like this over a bunch of vampires!" Joyce protested, shaking her head and leaning towards Buffy as she spoke earnestly. "You could go anywhere, Buffy, you could make anything out of your life. I don't want you stuck in this little town all your life thinking you shouldn't try for better. And as for this being the Hellmouth, and you being the Slayer- why, Mr. Giles will still be here, and Faith!"

She turned to Faith suddenly, giving her a quick smile. "Faith is always saying she enjoys slaying, aren't you, Faith? Faith could take over as the Slayer- she could even stay here while you're gone, if she wanted to. Buffy, there are two of you now, why does there need to be two Slayers on one Hellmouth? Faith could stay here, and you could go anywhere you wanted, anywhere at all."

Faith looked up at this, not so much startled by the thought, which had crossed her mind before, but by the fact that it was Joyce bringing it up- Joyce who had told her that her home was always open to her, who sometimes called her honey with the same thoughtless affection she did her own daughter, Joyce who had just berated herself for not doing more to help Faith…the same Joyce who was also more than willing to see Faith take over for her daughter as Slayer for as long as Faith was still alive to do it.

Well, it wasn't like Faith could blame her- Buffy was her kid, after all, and who wouldn't want to get their kid out of a job like that? And she wasn't wrong- Faith did like slaying. Up until just recently being the Slayer was pretty much the only thing she had going for her, and wasn't that what she wanted, to stay in Sunnydale as the Slayer? Hell, Mrs. Summers was even offering her free meals, room, and board for the deal. What more could she want?

But…but now things were starting to change…and now that Faith started to think about it, she wasn't so sure. It hadn't seemed very important what she did, or whether she died young while slaying, back when Faith didn't have enough to actually care…but it was different now. If she died young, she wouldn't see Cordy or Xander, Giles or even Buffy again, and that wasn't what she wanted. She liked slaying, and she didn't exactly have a lot of other options…but suddenly Faith was unsure about the one she did have.

"Yeah, Faith's here," Buffy said in response to her mother's persistence, sighing. "But Mom, I don't want to use her like that and make it where she wouldn't really have a choice…this is my choice, but if I chose not to stay, that would be making her choice for her too, you know? And how is that fair if she can't leave and I can?" she sighed, shrugging, before continuing, picking up her fork but just using it to gesture.

"And anyway, I'm the Slayer. Faith is /a/ Slayer, but I'm THE Slayer. No offense or anything," she added, glancing over at Faith with a somewhat apologetic smile. "So…I pretty much have to say, or should. I'm the Slayer, Mom."

Faith wasn't offended; after all, she'd pretty much always known the same thing, that she was /a/ Slayer compared to Buffy's THE slayer. There had only been a couple of days, before Faith's Watcher had set her straight on the events setting Faith's preceding Slayer, Kendra, up as a Slayer, where Faith had thought she even had a chance of being the one and only Chosen One. But once she knew that this wasn't true, that Buffy was in fact resurrected, alive, and still kicking vampire ass simultaneously as Kendra, Faith had known even before Kendra's death and her calling that even if one of them died and she became Slayer, she would be one of two- still special, still chosen, but not unique to everyone else in the world. And with Buffy the senior Slayer in both age and experience, it did make sense in Faith's mind that she was the lead- that she was THE Slayer.

Whatever rationalizations she had, though, and even in spite of Buffy's words, which could be taken as condescending or arrogant if looked at in a certain way, Faith was kind of pleased. Because the way Buffy was talking to her mom…it sounded like she did think about Faith, like she did care what happened to her and what her life would be like…even to the point of sacrificing an opportunity Buffy would have to get away and do exactly what she wanted, without worrying about Faith or Slayers or what was fair at all. Maybe it was just that Buffy didn't think Faith was good enough to defend the Hellmouth on her own…but maybe it was just that she really did care enough to want to be fair. Whatever the case, this was surprising but gratifying, and Faith smiled to herself.

Joyce, however, did not appear to be thinking along similar lines. She was still frowning as she looked between the girls, finally settling her gaze on Buffy.

"Who says that you're THE Slayer while Faith is /a/ Slayer?" she asked. "How do you know that to be true?"

"Well, I was called first," Buffy reasoned, looking to Faith for affirmation. "and I've been doing it for three years now almost, and Faith hasn't even for one yet. I'm older-"

This was an echo of Faith's own thoughts, but again this did not seem satisfactory to Joyce as she zeroed in on the last comment, blinking as her eyes shifted to Faith, assessing her.

"You are? Faith, how old are you, honey?"

Oh shit, not another replay of Faith-Is-Still-Just-A-Little-Girl…

Feeling her jaw tense, her eyes shift away, Faith shrugged, muttering nonchalantly, "Eighteen, soon."

"Yeah, if you call in nine months or so soon," Buffy rolled her eyes. "She only turned 17 in December. She was sixteen before that. So-"

"Sixteen?" Joyce said in shock, her eyes bulging, and she looked at Faith with such astonishment that Faith cringed, tensing further. "I had no idea you were so young. And to think…goodness, can you even drive?"

"Well I'm seventeen now," Faith said edgily, avoiding the question- the answer was that yes, she could operate a car, but it was without an official license or what one might term a reasonable degree of safety.

Clearly Buffy wasn't looking forward to returning to the tension that discussion Faith's age would bring, so she attempted to steer the course of conversation back to the direction she wanted it. "Right, so, Faith's younger, which is part of why it's pretty much assumed I'm THE Slayer."

"But why would have that to be true?" Joyce pressed, diverted as both had hoped, but not entirely. "Is this something you know for a fact to be true? Is it written in, oh, I don't know, do you have a list of Slayer rules or something? Something Slayers have to learn? Or did you just assume on your own?"

Appearing stumped by this, Buffy looked over at Faith for help. Faith shrugged. Joyce had raised a good point. She had never read it anywhere as a law…now that she thought about it, no one had ever really showed her anything making it something having to be true.

"I didn't read the Slayer handbook either, B. You tell me."

"I was called first," Buffy repeated, seeming unable to think of a stronger point than this, and Joyce leaned forward eagerly as she persisted.

"Yes, but Buffy, you also died for a little while, that's what you told me. And two Slayers have showed up since. That's two other girls who would have carried on duties and prophecies and whatever else of THE Slayer, as the only one, if you weren't still here, right? And since you did die, and passed on being called as a Slayer to two more girls since- doesn't it make sense to think that you passed on being THE Slayer to them too? Buffy, you died as the Slayer once already- shouldn't that mean you could retire now? Shouldn't that mean that really, Faith is THE Slayer?"

Faith's own eyes widened as she considered this…she had to admit that Mrs. Summers raised another good point. Why shouldn't she be THE Slayer…after all, didn't the Slayer line run through her now? Wasn't it her death, not Buffy's, that would call a new Slayer? Why wouldn't that mean that she, Faith, was THE Slayer…what if Mrs. Summers was right, and it had been Faith who was THE Slayer all along?"

"She makes sense, B," she admitted, then grinned, casting a teasing look in Buffy's direction as she nudged her. "Maybe Mrs. S is right, B. Maybe you're old news."

But Buffy was not amused. In fact, there were bright spots of red in her cheeks, her lips pressed tightly together in a thin line, and her voice came so tightly when she spoke that Faith was surprised her voice didn't crack.

"Mom, you don't' get it. I AM the Slayer. I BELONG here, and I'm not just leaving it all to someone else! This is MINE- this is- this isn't Faith's, it's MINE- it's- oh, just forget it, forget it all!"

With that, Buffy abruptly pushed herself back from the table, almost stalking out of the dining room as she headed towards the kitchen with her back taut with frustration. As Joyce looked at her retreating form, taken aback by the intensity of her response, Faith watched her for a few moments, thinking, then stood, speaking to Joyce first.

"Hey, don't worry about it, Mrs. S…I'll talk to her, alright? It's not you or anything you said…I think it's kind of…us."

She quickly finished the rest of what was on her plate, still standing over her plate rather than sitting, and then started to the doorway, turning back briefly to flash the still-bemused Joyce a smile.

"If we got any of that roast left over once we get back, I wouldn't mind having more. It's wicked good, Mrs. S."

She saw Joyce's weary but genuine smile in response before she continued into the kitchen. Pissed or not, Buffy was totally crazy to leave a meal like that when she still had food on her plate. No wonder the girl was scrawny.

Buffy was standing facing the kitchen countertop with both hands so tightly gripping it that her knuckles were white, her back to Faith. Her shoulder blades stuck out sharply, her back muscles were tensed, and though she undoubtedly heard Faith approach, she didn't turn around, speak, or otherwise acknowledge her presence. Faith exhaled, crossing her arms, and just watched her for a few seconds at first. Normally, she would be pissed off at Buffy for acting like this for seemingly no reason. But as she stood there, watching her, she had a feeling there was more going on in Buffy's head than she could see. And all the misunderstandings they'd been having lately, all the hurt feelings from both sides…Faith was getting sick of it. What she wanted then, as she watched Buffy silently before speaking, was to get it, to make things better. How the hell she was supposed to do that, she had no idea…but she did feel like she needed to try.


	35. 35

Chapter 34

"This hand in bitterness

We want to taste it, let the hatred numb our sorrows

The wise hand opens slowly

To lilies of the valley and tomorrow"

Natalie Grant, "Held"

"What's up, B. Why are you freaking out on your mom and me in there?"

"I'm not freaking out, Faith," Buffy muttered, still not turning towards her, and Faith rolled her eyes, sighing, before rephrasing.

"Okay, well then, why are you raising your voice and running out the room, leaving a damn good meal behind that's about to make its way into my stomach if you don't go back and claim it?"

"Like you usually wait for me to leave the room first to do that," Buffy shot back, and Faith smirked in spite of herself, having to give Buffy a point there, before she went on, her voice dropping to a slightly more serious tone as she stepped closer, coming to stand behind Buffy.

"Seriously, B, what's going on?"

For a few moments Faith thought Buffy was just going to snap at her again. Her shoulders drew together, her jaw tightening, and as she began to turn around, Faith saw the frustration in her eyes. But then Buffy sighed, her shoulders dropping slowly, and she said to Faith with intensity that now lacked anger, I KNOW I'm THE Slayer, Faith. I am."

Nonplussed, Faith uncrossed her arms, shrugging, and raised an eyebrow; whether or not what Buffy was saying was true, what Faith didn't get was why she wanted it so badly. "How do you know that?"

"I just do," Buffy insisted, one hand gesturing vaguely but emphatically as she met Faith's eyes, exhaling sharply and thinning her lips before continuing, shaking her head. "I just do. I HAVE to be."

HAVE to be? What the hell- did Buffy have to be top dog that bad, that the thought of anyone even taking first place in the job she supposedly hated was too much for her to handle?

"Damn, B, you really have to have every piece of the whole pie, don't you?" Faith asked, her voice not quite as level now as she put one hand on her hip, leaving the other free to gesture with. "Why the hell does it matter to you which of us is /a/ Slayer and which of us is THE Slayer? It's still Slayers either way, you're still one of the only Chosen Two, you're still kick-ass and big bad boogeygirl to every creature on the block and around the globe. None of that's going away, and even if it was, you think it would matter if you did stop being Slayer? Your mom and your friends would still think you were the best thing that ever walked the earth and look to you to guide their every move. And anyway, what the hell, I would think you'd WANT to have someone take over being Slayer for you, I would think the way you're always bitching how bad it sucks and how you don't have a life anymore because of it and it ruins your nails and outfits and blah blah blah, that you'd jump at the chance to have me take over so you can go off and go to college and ride off into the stars with Fangboy or whatever the hell you think of as a perfect normal life. So if that's what you think, why are you all pissed off thinking about me giving you a chance of retirement when that's what you've been begging for?

Buffy made a sound that was somewhere between a huff and a snort, shaking her head, and she pointed at Faith partly as if accusing her, partly in triumph as she replied.

"See, there it is, right there, that's exactly what I mean!" she took a deep breath, letting her eyes shift away, and then turned her face back towards her, seeming to be choosing her words with more care now. "Look, Faith, I get that it's been hard for you. I know that, and I know me, and the rest of us, haven't made it any easier, and I feel bad, I do. I'm not trying to discount that-"

"But?" Faith prompted, knowing it was coming, knowing that Buffy in no way was ending her point there, and ready to cut to the chase. Because she knew damn well from experience that if there was a "but" somewhere in a sentence, you might as well forget everything coming before it, because that was the really important part.

Buffy seemed to be struggling with herself, having a difficult time deciding what to say or how to say it, or maybe the words simply would not at first leave her lips. But eventually they came in a burst of honesty much as they had when she had confronted Faith by Cordelia's pool, hanging in the air between them, openly stated for the first time directly to Faith since she had first come to Sunnydale.

"But ever since you came here, Faith, it's like everything you do, everything you say is trying to take something away from me. It's like everything with us has always been a competition. Even when we're having fun and getting along, it's still about who's faster and stronger and smarter and more badass or whatever else, and if you can't win out you'll try to take something away to even it up. I'm not saying you're MEANING to or TRYING to, but you always do and are anyway, Faith, or at least that's what it seems like. And now it's like you're even trying to take my Slayer status, making me 'a Slayer' and you 'The Slayer,' and that's what's ALWAYS been mine, that's not just mine, that's ME. So it's like you're taking ME."

Buffy's cheeks were heated slightly as she concluded, and her eyes averted, but Faith continued to stare at her, blown away by her words. TAKING something from her- Faith, taking something from BUFFY? Buffy with all her friends, all her attention and concern, Buffy with her mom and her house and everything Faith could even conceive of having, Buffy who was respected and trusted…Buffy was worried that Faith would somehow TAKE from her? Who the hell would even allow her to when it was Buffy everyone wanted?

"What the hell, B?" Faith almost sputtered, eyes widening, before she took a deep breath, attempting to figure out how to say what she wanted in a way Buffy might actually get it. Whatever her intentions, what she was thinking ended up coming out as bluntly as it sounded in her own head, because as it turned out, that was the only way she could think to say it at all.

"Okay, first off, I never tried to take shit from you, and even if I did try or wanted to, I couldn't get it even if I, like, cloned myself into being you, or even if I put you in a coma or something, because you would never let me take it, and YOUR friends and YOUR family would never let me take it, because they want YOU. YOUR friends, YOUR school, YOUR Watcher, YOUR mom, YOUR house, YOUR town, YOUR Slayerdom, YOUR everything, I get it, okay? They might LIKE me, they might feel GUILTY about me, they might want to be nice to me or give me shit right now or even be my friend, but they LOVE you, Buffy. You're first, you always will be, and nothing I could even think of doing would ever take that away. Everything will ALWAYS be yours. Some of it might sort of be OURS, or might one day, but when it comes down to it, it was yours first and it's always gonna be really yours in everyone's mind. B, you could move to Japan and stop being a Slayer, and I could live in your house with your mom, hanging out with your friends and training with your Watcher and doing your Slayer job, and you don't think they would care? You don't think they'd wish it was your instead? Hell, B, I know that, why don't YOU?"

Faith stopped briefly, taking another breath in and letting it out, and realized her hands were knotted into fists, her muscles stiff and tight with her tension. Forcing her hands to relax, she looked back at Buffy, not failing to notice that the blonde had gone very quiet and looked somewhat stricken and uncomfortable at her reply.

"I never tried to take anything from you," Faith said more calmly, crossing her arms. "I might have wanted to share some stuff a little, or at least like be out on the outside edge of things, but that's not like I was trying to steal your identity and rack up credit debts in your name."

Buffy licked her lips, her mouth thinning, her discomfort more evident as she rolled her shoulders, then looked back at Faith as she replied.

"Okay…so maybe that was a little overboard…but the Slayer stuff…you WERE always wanting to try to show me up there. You came in with all your stories about naked alligator wrestling, and you would…you always wanted to go longer and harder, and- and now if you're taking over here and I go off-"

"Okay, first off, it was the priest thing that was naked, not the alligators," Faith cut her off, then added incredulously, "And taking over here? With the Slayer stuff? Are you kidding me? Buffy, you've been bitching about being a Slayer since the day I met you. You're always saying how you want to be normal, slaying ruined your social life, your dating life, your life life, etc, so why do you suddenly have a problem with me doing all your Slayer stuff for you? Wouldn't I just be doing what you're always saying you want anyway?"

Buffy's mouth opened, then closed, and she blinked several times, seemingly thrown by Faith's logic- probably, Faith suspected, mostly because it sounded logical. She cleared her throat, then muttered defensively, "Well, people COMPLAIN, that doesn't mean they really want other people to…well-"

"What, take them seriously?" Faith finished for her, shaking her head; the more she spoke to Buffy, the more she herself was beginning to get frustrated. This, she realized suddenly, was the crux of what had always kept them at a distance from each other, ever since Faith had come to Sunnydale…this was what had always formed a barrier between them. Now, Faith was determined to finally smash through it, even if it meant injury on either side.

"B, you ever think maybe the reason you hate slaying so much, the whole reason you think it makes you so damn miserable, is because it really doesn't? You ever think that maybe you're totally lying to yourself, because you love it almost as much as I do and you just don't want it to be true?"

From the look Buffy gave her and the affronted noise she made in her throat, she hadn't, not that Faith was surprised.

"I'm not LYING to myself about anything. Not everyone gets off on blood and guts and stakings like you do, Faith, not everyone-"

"Then why the hell do you even bother to make all your sarcastic little puns with the vamps when you see them? Why don't you just kick their asses fast as you can, slam bam stake you ma'am?" Faith challenged, eyebrows raising, knowing she had her on that one. "Why do you always have that little smile going after a good patrol, why do you like to go out dancing after or make out with Fangboy or raid the fridge, and don't tell me about eating yogurt because we both know that's a lie. How come you get all pissy and antsy if it's a slow slay night? You say one thing and do another, Buffy, so don't even try to say you're not lying to yourself."

Faith paused, eyeing her, but Buffy only exhaled, her eyes skipping away, as Faith resumed her talking, her voice dropping lower now, becoming more intense, reflecting itself in her posture and the way she held her jaw as she continued.

"And as for me being into blood and guts and whatever the hell else you were saying, B? You ever think of WHY? Didn't think so, so let me tell you, because me getting called as Slayer fucking MEANT something to me. It meant I was special, it meant I was important, it meant someone or something chose ME, it meant my Watch- it, it meant something to be proud of, even now, without her- without- even now. It meant…even now, me being Slayer is a thousand times better than me not being Slayer, and you know what that means? Think about it, Buffy! If I wasn't a fucking Slayer right now I wouldn't have shit! I'd be back in Boston probably living on the streets, nobody would care what happened to me or want to give me shit because I wouldn't be anybody, no one would even look at me twice. That's what it was before I knew I might be Slayer, that's what it still would be if I wasn't Slayer now- you ever think how much it has to fucking suck for someone to think your life as a Slayer looks like a sweet deal?"

Faith's voice had risen louder than she intended, and she made an effort to calm down, taking in a slow breath and cracking her knuckles unconsciously. When she spoke again more softly, she didn't meet Buffy's eyes.

"It used to be before I could be a Slayer, I knew I was probably gonna die in an unmarked grave, and no one would know or care. Just another friggin' statistic…but now, I might get the unmarked grave, but someone's gonna remember, and my stat's gonna be a lot smaller. I'm gonna go down in history. I'm gonna be important, even if it's just for a few years. Now, someone might even care."

Buffy still appeared somewhat stricken, her features strained, and her fingers squeezed the skin of her forearm as she shifted her weight, taking several moments to meet Faith's eyes. Her words came slowly, carefully, and Faith could hear the faint shock in her tone.

"I didn't…you're not dying, Faith. You won't die. And…if you did…your grave would…it would have marks."

Faith smiled slightly, finding this rather awkward and fumbling reply pretty amusing in a morbid kind of way, and shrugged, lips quirking.

"Well, thanks, B…kind of not the point, though. Point is whatever shit slaying brings with it, there's still nothing else I'd rather do. But you, you want the best of both worlds here, and it ain't gonna happen. Figure out which it is you want the most already, so you can quit stringing your mom along thinking she might win you over to her side, and maybe then you can stop being so tightly wound too…so what is it, B? What do you want?"

"I am NOT tightly wound," Buffy snapped, lifting her chin, eyes glinting now with resentment as she drew herself up taller. "Okay, if you think I should know so much about what I want, what do YOU want, Faith? Other than slaying- is that really all you want, is that just all you think you'll ever get?"

It was a good question, one that gave Faith pause, because it wasn't one she had thought of in so many words before. In fact, it sounded suspiciously like something Earl might ask her…and Faith felt her features soften unconsciously as she considered, one hand absently rubbing up and down her arm.

"No…it's not," she admitted, more quietly and with less certainty than before. She hesitated, meeting Buffy's eyes, and then exhaled; she couldn't imagine speaking these words without shouting them in angry frustration to anyone except Cordelia, or maybe Earl, not until this moment, but now they came from her mouth so calmly Faith was astonished, for they seemed to come outside from herself…enough that she looked around quickly after they concluded, wondering if Earl would be standing nearby.

"Yeah, I want to stay…I want to be the great Slayer I was called to be, have everyone look up to me and respect me and follow me and all that…but that's not all. I want to be trusted too, and be able to trust other people, and not always be looking over my shoulder to see if they're aiming a knife towards my back…and…"

She paused here, the words briefly sticking in her throat, then dropping to a murmur when they came, her eyes skipping away. "I want to be loved too…and…to love people. And that's…I guess it's all. I really do want…that's pretty much it."

When a brief silence fell between them, Faith hurriedly picked up again, her voice returning to its normal strength and volume. "And you know, B, you've GOT all that, so what more do YOU want? You've got the love and trust with your mom and friends, and even Angel, and you've got the slaying too. And if you don't want the slaying you can get rid of it. What do you want, Buffy, because either way, you can HAVE it. You don't want to be the Slayer, or a Slayer, then I take over. You do, then we do it together, you stay here and I've got your back. But either way, you can't resent it, because it's YOUR choice. You're getting YOUR way."

Buffy ran a hand through her hair, seeming to be struggling with what she was hearing as her eyes moved upward. She cupped her elbows with her hands, in a gesture that seemed more self-protective than defensive as she bowed her head, her voice softening.

"Faith…I DO want both…and neither…I don't know what to do with it, because neither is entirely right. If I stay here…then I might die young, and I'll never have a normal life, I'll never…it will never be the way I always thought I wanted. But if I leave…if I give it up…not only is that not fair to you, but…I think I'd miss it," she said slowly, as if it were strange and shocking to say so aloud. "I think it would feel wrong…and I would miss it. And if YOU were THE Slayer…if I wasn't…then everything that's happened…everyone who's died, everything I've lost and sacrificed all this time…it would be like turning my back on it…like it was for nothing. And it's not…it wouldn't be the same…even now, nothing is the same, so what would it be if I left it all? And Angel-"

"Angel?" Faith said blankly, wondering where the hell Deadboy fit into all this. It was her assumption that wherever Buffy went, Angel would follow like a puppy heeling its master or something.

"Yes…I mean, the way it is now in Sunnydale, with me the Slayer, what would happen with us if I wasn't a Slayer at all? What would he do, just hang around all day waiting for it to be night so he could see me?" Buffy fretted, and Faith shrugged, still not following.

"Isn't that kind of what he does now?"

"Yeah, but if I'm going to go with having a normal life it should be NORMAL, and having a boyfriend who is going to eventually be younger-looking than I am isn't exactly fitting in with that…but can I really decide not to have a normal life just based on that? But shouldn't I, if I love him? And I love him, Faith, god, I love him so much sometimes it hurts…but it's not the same anymore. It's not the same, and-" Buffy cut herself off, swallowing, and Faith was vastly uncomfortable to see tears standing in her eyes. Holy shit, this was definitely starting to turn a direction she hadn't intended…

"So…uh…are you and Angel…breaking up?" she ventured, shifting her weight, and Buffy's eyes snapped back up to hers, widening in horror at the thought.

"No!" She said immediately, and Faith tried again.

"So…do you want to, then?"

"No!" Buffy shook her head vehemently, but the continued wideness of her eyes and tears standing in their surface told her otherwise. Faith paused, then slowly reached to grasp her arm awkwardly as she spoke.

"Yeah you do…you just don't want to think about it. But you've got to, B. I ain't gonna lie, you've got issues to work with…so…no offense, but the thing is you, you gotta do it, because if you don't, it's everyone else who's gonna pay for it too. So…get started."

Buffy sniffed, then exhaled, not shaking off Faith's tentative touch, nor snapping at her…in fact, she nodded slowly.

"I know," she said quietly, and Faith watched her in surprise as she nodded again. "I know…and…I will."

"Good." Faith paused, brow furrowing, then glanced back towards the dining room, where poor Joyce had been sitting alone now for quite some time. "So…think we should head back now…your mom's probably starting to freak, think we're killing each other."

"Nah, she didn't hear enough things breaking," Buffy replied with a faint smile, and Faith returned it.

Patting Buffy's arm quickly, then removing it, she turned with her towards the dining room. She wasn't sure why, exactly, but as they resumed their places at the table, Faith felt warm and pleased with herself, as though she had accomplished a task she had thought impossible- and in a way, she had.

Joyce was eyeing them closely as they rejoined her, obviously trying to seem unconcerned, but her brow creased and her smile was hesitant as she looked between them.

"Everything okay, girls?" she asked lightly, and both nodded, though Faith thought Buffy still looked preoccupied as she replied.

"Yeah, Mom, we're fine."

Although Joyce didn't look at all convinced, she didn't press further, and after a few moments they were able to resume a more relaxed conversation. It was just as they were finishing dessert- an excellent chocolate cake that Faith would have had thirds of if she wasn't so full- when Buffy, who had gone fairly quiet since being served, looked up suddenly and made an abrupt announcement, her voice very final in tone.

"I've made up my mind, Mom. I'm staying here. I'm going to UC Sunnydale- I might stay at the dorms, but I'm staying in Sunnydale, too, and I'm gonna do the Slayer thing a while longer. After college, if it gets that far, I don't know yet, but I've got four years to decide, and right now, I'm staying here."

Faith wasn't really surprised; it was the decision she had suspected Buffy would come to all along. She just shrugged, gave Buffy a genuine smile, and resumed digging into the rest of her cake, more glad than she would have thought to hear that Buffy would still be fighting at her side for the next four years to come. Whatever else happened, wherever the others went, at least Buffy would stick around…and maybe, if B was finally gonna figure out this was what she wanted anyway, it would be that much better.

But Joyce had not had the preparation of hearing their earlier conversation, and this news came as a shock to her. Putting down her fork, her words stuttered slightly as she tried to come to terms with it.

"What? Buffy- let's, let's talk about this. This, it's not, this isn't something to be decided hastily or based on the emotion of one moment-"

"Mom, this is something I've been in the process of deciding for years," Buffy said softly but firmly, chin lifted, voice confident and sure, and as Faith looked over to her, she was surprised but pleased to see that Buffy was sitting tall, the tension gone from her face, as though the moment her choice had been made, all worry had left her. She looked purposeful, determined, in a way Faith hadn't seen from her in a while…even content. As though she were coming to terms with a choice made long ago, and finding it to be okay.

"This is what I want…this is what I need to do…and I think…this is what's gonna make me happy," Buffy continued, glancing briefly at Faith, but mostly focusing on her mother. "Not all the time of course, because, you know, slaying does suck…but who can be happy all the time? I…I want to stay, Mom, at least for a while. I want to help Faith…I want to be the…I want to be /a/ Slayer."

Faith's eyes widened at this deliberate change of phrasing, knowing the meaning behind it. She barely had time to process this before Buffy turned to her, now addressing her.

"I'm not doing this for you, Faith…it's for me, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't take advantage of it. You've got a chance now too…if you want to leave, you could. You want to stay, you can…and I'm not saying I wouldn't prefer it. But it's your life too. Do what you think is best for you…get the most you can from life, don't just automatically give up all other options to be Slayer…not now that you've got a choice. Learn what you're fighting for…make some good memories, even if you do stay here. Because you're gonna need them, as Slayer…trust me, I know."

Buffy's smile tipped, and even as Faith opened her mouth, ready to reply straight away that she of course would stay- where the hell else would she go, what could she possibly be other than Slayer- Buffy held up her hand, not letting her start.

"No, I want you to think about it, Faith. For at least a week. I've had years to make up my mind…you just helped me make it up faster. I don't think you ever thought about it at all. So think about it now…because you can. Talk about it with Earl- uh- EARLY rising…older…angelic…friends," she finished up lamely, stumbling over the last part as she glanced at her mother. "But don't set your future in stone now…'cause it doesn't have to be. If you don't want it to be."

For the rest of her time in the Summers' house, Faith was quiet, thinking over Buffy's words. She was right. Faith had never once considered that she might have a choice…and maybe this was one of the first times in her life she did.

She couldn't imagine choosing not to be Slayer, choosing to leave…but what if she did? What might happen…what could she become?

She couldn't believe it, but for once, Faith actually kind of wanted to have a talk with Earl.


	36. 36

Chapter 36

" You say let it go

You say let it go

You say life is waiting for the ones who lose control

You say you will be everything I need

You say if I lose my life, still I'll find my soul

You say let it go"

"Let it go," Tenth North Avenue

It had been a very long night, and though it was far past midnight, Faith knew it wasn't over yet. From the time she and Cordelia had discovered the IRS officials on Cordelia's lawn until the present late evening, where the girls sat together, still fully clothed, on their motel bed, possessions strewn haphazardly over the stained floor, it had seemed that the present was a surreal experience, like walking through an ongoing nightmare that could not be awakened out of even when morning finally came.

When the agents of the IRS had explained their actions to Cordelia, and their reasons for now taking from her nearly everything she owned, including the roof over her head, Cordelia had, for one of the first occasions that Faith had witnessed since she met her, been shocked almost to the point of speechlessness. For several moments she simply gaped at their impassive expressions, her mouth open, eyes at first not blinking at all, then blinking too often and rapidly before she could seem to pull herself together enough to find words to counter the men's declaration. Then, again drawing herself up to her full height as she took in a sharp breath, she had begun to fire off questions with such a dangerous edge to her voice that Faith's head had swiveled back and forth between them, almost expecting Cordelia to become violent.

Cordelia needed them to repeat their explanation several times before its meaning seemed to sink in, and Faith watched as the initial incredulity and near unbelief in her features gradually gave way to horror…and then, to steadily increasing rage, tempered with fear that she could not successfully keep from her eyes. even without her speaking the words, Faith knew the frantic thoughts that must be going through her mind. What would they do, where would they go, how could this be happening…how could this now be her life?

She did not speak to Faith, or even look back at her. In fact, she seemed to have forgotten that she was there. Faith was not offended by this, though she herself was very, very aware of her presence in the moment…and entirely at a loss as to what to do. She stood just behind Cordelia as Cordelia spoke, wanting to somehow reach out to her, whether in words or physical touch, yet having no idea of how to do so without it being rejected in the moment. A few times she lifted her hand, started to touch her, but each time lowered it to her side before Cordelia could come within inches of her grasp. She stood, helpless with empathy for her, at a loss as to how and when to show it, and thought with heavy bitterness that one thing that could be counted on, no matter where you were or who you were, your father or else lack of one was gonna end up screwing up your existence.

She didn't know one person in Sunnydale who's dad hadn't screwed them over, and judging by what she'd learned in Boston too, it was a universal thing. Fathers split, fathers screwed you over, literally and figuratively…fathers sucked. And now Cordy's dad had officially joined the hall of shame.

"When did you last see or speak with your parents, Miss Chase?" Agent Daniels had asked, and Cordelia, thinking back, had realized it was probably the previous morning or the evening before that. She hadn't seen them at all today or the night before, and this, though it was not unusual for her, was suspicious to the IRS, who clearly believed that her parents had fled the previous day's morning, likely soon after Faith and Cordelia had left for school.

"Your father did not show up at his workplace today or yesterday," they had informed her, "And we have not yet been able to track him or your mother down. It's thought that they may not be travelling together, and that one or both of them may be attempting to leave the country. It's a shame you're eighteen, or we could add child abandonment to the charges if you were a few months younger."

"Child abandonment?" Cordelia had said with genuine shock, shaking her head in denial as she put up one hand defensively. "No, this isn't…they didn't just LEAVE me, I'm sure. They'll probably call soon, or, or send me a plane ticket, or…they didn't leave ME, they just LEFT. Look, this is all a mistake. And if it's not, which honestly wouldn't shock me, the leaving me part is, I'll just call them, okay, and this will…"

She was already dialing without finishing her sentence, her face drawn tight with stress. Faith watched Cordelia's fingers tighten around the cell phone as it rang repeatedly, and her stomach flopped sickeningly with the familiarity of what she was seeing. She tried not to picture the empty, filthy apartments she had often come home to alone, the practiced indifference she had learned to show when her mother staggered through the door days later, as Cordelia dialed numbers repeatedly, the fear taking over the fury in her expression as time and time again, her parents both refused to answer her call.

"Do you have anywhere to stay? Maybe with another relative, or your friend here?" one of the agents had finally asked, nodding towards Faith, and Cordelia had blinked, then looked back at her as if only then remembering her.

Seeing the newly dazed look in her eyes as she struggled to process this new factor of her parents' lack of reply, they had gone on to explain to her yet again that her home and most of its possessions were no longer hers. She was allowed to keep her clothes, her school supplies and hygiene supplies, her makeup, and anything put in her own name, such as her car and her college education fund, but everything else was no longer hers. As they were locking up for the night shortly, whatever Cordelia needed had to be removed now, and quickly.

The girls had little choice then but to remove all that Cordelia was allowed to take, and all of Faith's things as well, and load them into Cordelia's car. Cordelia was almost entirely silent throughout this, even as Faith helped, and because of her quiet, Faith did not speak either, scared of what she could not seem to find the words to say. It did not escape her, the irony of Cordelia taking her in only to lose her own home, and though it had nothing to do with her, Faith could not help but feel guilty, as if she had somehow jinxed her with her very presence.

As they loaded up the last of Cordelia's extensive wardrobe, with Cordelia wadding and stuffing items in a way that alarmed Faith all the more, for she knew that Cordelia would never have treated her clothes that way just a few hours ago, Faith was further shocked when Cordelia slid into the passenger seat, indicating that she wanted Faith to drive. A month ago she had been concerned with Faith making her car smell, and now she was handing over the keys? As Faith got in cautiously, looking over to Cordelia's stiff face, she swallowed, her voice soft as she asked, "Cor…you okay?"

"Peachy," came Cordelia's flat reply, and she didn't turn her head. "Just drive."

And so Faith had, though she had received no further direction as to where it was, exactly, she was driving to. She had not driven a car in quite some time, much less one as nice as Cordelia's, and for a while it was enough to concentrate on its operation, because the last thing she wanted was to wreck Cordelia's last valuable possession. But after ten minutes of Cordelia's grim silence, Faith snuck her twentieth glance over at her, then asked, "Cordy…where are we going?"

Cordelia shrugged, a muscle working in her jaw before she replied with such bitterness in her voice it was almost acidic.

"Well if you're my father, to Mexico or New Zealand, and if you're my mother, probably to her sister in Atlanta. But if you're me, apparently to the nearest bridge or street corner, because that's MY new address."

Well, she was still able to speak, anyway. And it wasn't like Faith had expected a sweetly worded reply. She was here, and she was the only one Cordelia could snap at, so if needed, Faith wouldn't fight it.

"We're not gonna have it come to that," she told her quietly. "You've gotta have somewhere to stay. Don't worry about me, I'll find somewhere to go. Even Giles or Buffy if I get totally desperate. You want me to drop you off with a friend or someone? Just say the name and address, and I'll-"

At this Cordelia's head swiveled towards her so sharply Faith heard something in her neck pop, her eyes bulged, and eyebrows slanted steeply as she strained against her seatbelt, vehemently shaking her head as she nearly shouted her response.

"NO! NO, I do not want to stay with ANYONE, I do not want to tell ANYONE!"

Faith blinked, taken aback, and then nodded quickly.

"Okay, sorry, I'm not gonna take you anywhere you don't want to go, Cor, really. I just…kind of want to know where we should go. Because bridge or street corner…been there, done that, and it isn't where I'd pick to spend my night. And sleep in a car isn't much better."

If Cordelia was mollified by her response, it wasn't by much, because she shook her head again, with her lips tightly pressed into a grim line, barely acknowledging Faith.

"No one can know about this," she said, no longer looking at her, but the edge in her voice made it clear to Faith that it was she whom she was addressing. "No one, do you understand? I won't have them laughing at me or pitying me. NO ONE can know."

For a few moments Faith didn't say anything, feeling her forehead crease with her discomfort at this. Because what she had expected was that Cordy WOULD tell someone…that she would find someone to stay with, someone to give her money and food and all the rest she would need. She had been trying to think about where Cordelia might go, because she didn't want to think about where she, Faith, now might end up. But if Cordy didn't want to tell anyone…what would happen?

And yet…she understood. Had she not been in a very similar situation, living in a terrible motel room and not letting anyone know how bad it was, or that she was underage? Was she not now right back where she had started…because if she told about no longer having a place to stay, she would be telling on Cordelia too?

Faith understood pride, and it was because of her respect for Cordelia's that she nodded slowly.

"I won't…I won't tell anyone. But if we won't tell anyone, then we need to decide where it is we're gonna stay."

It had taken a while to decide, but given Cordelia's adamancy against staying in anyone's home, they had no option but to drive to a hotel barely a step above where Faith had previously lived- semi clean, but not so nice it didn't accept Cordelia's cash payment. It was past eleven by the time they finally settled into the room, letting their belongings simply fall to the floor with no effort to put them up, and no sooner had they arrived then Cordelia had sat on the double bed and proceeded to call her parents again, over and over.

Faith had watched this for nearly an hour, at a loss as to what to do. It seemed Cordelia didn't want her to touch or talk to her, and yet to watch her call her parents with no reply, until Cordelia was shaking with growing rage, was so terrible she couldn't bring herself to change her clothes or even take out her toothbrush. She sat apart from her on the bed, watching in silence as her stomach twisted into painful knots.

Cordelia finally gave up by throwing her phone across the room with a frustrated growl, hunching over glaring at where it landed on a pile of her clothes, unharmed. She punctuated her actions by also hitting her fist on the thin bedspread of her and Faith's bed, including it in her glower as though it too had managed to wrong her.

"This is so like them!" she said heatedly, and Faith, seeing this as an indication that Cordy was ready to finally talk, even if it was a one way rant rather than a conversation, finally risked asking a question.

"Like them? Did you think it was a possibility that this was gonna happen?"

"WHAT? You mean, think that my father is a thieving asshole who would rather take other people's money and pretend to be working while really he's just sending interns up to his office to give him a blow job, which means that once he gets caught he's stripping me out of having a house, or, you know, anything, and then jets off like a coward and wont' answer my calls because they might be traced, which means I not only have no house or things but absolutely no remaining reputation or respect, because he's going to be in the paper and on the news and everywhere I look, and people will laugh at me and say that's her, that's Cordelia Chase, that's HIS daughter, and Harmony will be so damn happy because she'll be the richest person in the school now and she'll be all up in my face about it acting like she's sorry for me, but really using it as a way to stick it to me? Are you asking if I saw all THAT coming? Because the answer is NO, Faith, somehow I just didn't see all that coming!"

There wasn't much Faith could think of to say to that, but then, Cordelia didn't give her much opportunity to. she turned her whole body to face Faith abruptly, her eyes dark with the ferocity of her anger as she demanded, "Where the hell are they, and why aren't they calling me? I get about they're not using their phones because they could be traced or whatever. But they could borrow someone else's phone, or buy a prepaid one, or even use a PHONE booth, so why the hell aren't they? Why aren't they picking up the phone to say, "Oh hey Cordy, by the way we lost everything we own because we are so damn lazy we stole everything, and we're on the lam now, hoping we pick up new languages fast because we'll need the skill when we spend the rest of our lives in England!"

They spoke English in England, Faith was pretty sure, but hardly thought it was the time to point this out.

"I don't know," she said quietly, shrugging. "I don't' know, Cordelia. I'm sorr-"

"I mean, it's not like I WANT to talk to them, that is the last thing I want," Cordelia cut her off, barely seeming to have realized Faith had spoken, even as her eyes bore into hers with sharp intensity, her body leaning in to her. "I could care less about the pathetic reasons and excuses for this they'd have. Like I really want to hear about how their lives are so hard, having to wear cheap ski masks and baseball hats to hide their pathetic faces instead of getting plastic surgery or a mink hat or something, and how they can't travel first class out of the country when they leave me back here with nothing! It's not like I could stand to look at them right now without wanting to strangle them with Daddy's silk ties or Mommy's diamond necklaces. No way in hell do I want to BE with them. But they could at least call me, text me, email me- not that I'd know if they did THAT, since my laptop is now custody of the IRS, but god, they could at least let me know what they did, admit it to me!"

She sat up straighter, eyebrows slanting towards her nose as a new thought came to her. "The ASSHOLES! Daddy went on and on about living up to the Chase family name, like it's so precious and sacred, he went on about ME being an embarrassment going with Xander, and look at HIM! Not only is he screwing half the town, he's stealing from them too! And then all the police are at our house, and the movers, and you know how small town cops talk, even if it wasn't for the paper or the news, even if Daddy managed to pay them off from talking, the cops might tell their wives, their wives will tell their friends, their kids will overhear, and soon they'll l all know, everyone in the whole state, probably in the whole damn universe! God, thank god no one reads the paper around here…but TV, if it's on TV or just spread by word of mouth…god, this is so TYPICAL, this is so damn embarrassing, and there he was talking about ME! ME, when I never slept with everything with a dick in town, when I never stole more than one lipstick since I was twelve, when I'm not the one running like a big fat chicken ass who can't even pick up a ringing telephone when I hear it! ME, embarrassing, ME, ruining the stupid family name!"

Cordelia hit the bed again, and Faith thinned her lips, taking in a slow breath as she tried to figure out what she should say, what it was Cordelia wanted to hear.

"It's probably not gonna be on TV, Cor…I mean, with all the celebrity drama going on all the time, there's gotta be a bigger story than this breaking tonight, right? It's California. And it's not like your dad was arrested-"

"Yeah, because he's on the RUN!" Cordelia snapped. "He's a FUGITIVE, he's going to be having everyone LOOK for him, which means they will want to put up pictures so they can FIND him, which means he'll probably be on the news every day until they catch him! They'll probably put up wanted posters too, the only time in his whole life anyone ever wanted him for his LACK of money!"

"Cordy…I don't think it's gonna be like that," Faith tried again. "It's not like he killed someone-"

"No, he just murdered my last shred of ability to hold my head up in public," Cordelia snarled, but Faith pushed through, talking over her with determination.

"He didn't do something you'll get death penalty for, so this isn't gonna be a big news thing, I bet. I mean, our town's obituary is as long as the rest of the paper combined, you know? And these are Sunnydale cops we're talking about. If they can't find him in a day or two they'll give up and go back to looking for their donuts. Probably hardly anyone will know. I mean, look how long it took everyone to figure out I'm not eighteen."

Apparently Cordelia couldn't find much fault with this logic, for she changed the subject. Kicking her foot against the lower part of the bed and scowling, she jabbed a finger at the bed with obvious disgust, gesturing around the room.

"I have NEVER had to stay at a place like this in my LIFE, this is RIDICULOUS! LOOK at this place, it's HIDEOUS! And the closets and drawer space are insanely NOT adequate for one person to use!"

Faith looked around herself again, though by now she already knew, of course, what she would see. The room was hardly fancy, harboring one bed, one nightstand with a cheap lamp and alarm clock, a tiny, decently clean bathroom, and a medium sized TV on a six drawer dresser. It wasn't the nicest place to stay, but compared to the motel Faith had been used to, or sleeping on a park bench, it was pretty damn all right to her.

"Well…yeah, it sucks, Cordy," she said, exhaling. "But you'll probably survive staying for a night or two before we figure out what we'll do next."

"I shouldn't have to!" Cordelia sputtered, shaking her head fiercely as she turend her glare from the bedspread to Faith, jaw clinching. "I shouldn't HAVE to spend a night or two here, I should be in my own home and my own bed in my own neighborhood, and I WOULD be, except it turns out that it wasn't paid for with my parent's own money, which means it belongs to someone else and I don't own shit. God, they are both such assholes!"

Her voice was rising, becoming louder and faster and more strident, and Faith braced herself for yet another round of ranting, inwardly steeling herself not to respond to any abuse that Cordelia might fling at her. Tonight, at least, whatever she said, she wasn't going to take it personally or get pissed. She might not let Cordelia keep saying things…but she wouldn't get pissed either.

"They are such assholes!" Cordelia repeated, her voice even louder now, the anger in its tone building as she spoke faster, her muscles rigid with the strength of her feelings. "MOMMY and all her Botox and breast implants and tanning and her pool boy playtimes, her expensive jewelry and her fur coats and 5 billion purses, and her drinking and Xanax, and then there's DADDY and his whores and his cars and his new gadgets, all from money that isn't THEIRS, stealing, lying, running, all the time it was "Cordelia be a lady, Cordelia this is all yours, fair and square, Cordelia say hello to this client I stole from, Cordelia don't embarrass us, Cordelia get good grades, Cordelia stay pretty, stay perfect, date a football player, you're not good enough if you don't, and look at them, what are THEY? White trash thieving cowards, every bit as much as all the people they said I couldn't be around, MORE! I hope like hell I'm adopted because I don't want any part of them to be part of me! They were more worried about looking after the damn poodle then me, and they even took her with them and left ME, their DAUGHTER, behind! They picked the POODLE over me, they left ME behind!"

And then, to Faith's shock, all of the rage that had darkened Cordelia's features so dominantly suddenly dissipated, her expression collapsing as she began to sob, her voice heavy with pain and thick with tears as she repeated, her words shaky and nearly incoherent.

"They left me…they left me behind. Oh god, they left me behind."

There seemed to be only one possible reaction to this change in her, only one acceptable action to the shift of Cordelia's emotions, and Faith didn't take time to further consider her response. She simply reached for Cordelia and wrapped her arms around her, hugging her to her, and she noticed in time that Cordelia's arms slowly went around her as well, that she let her forehead come to rest against Faith's shoulder without protest as her sobs gradually slowed.

As Faith continued to hold Cordelia, her heart twisted with her empathy for her, her mouth dry, and she swallowed, looking past her to focus on the opposite wall so she wouldn't' have to look down at Cordelia to see as well as hear and feel her pain. It was a pain Faith knew all too well.

Her father had left her before she was even born, rejected her before he even knew who she was, and her mother had sometimes left for days or even weeks without seeming any happier when she returned. And then, when she had died, Faith had wanted not to care. She had wanted to hate her mother. But all she could think of was the tired, almost affectionate way her mother had looked at her as she called her Firecracker, the way she had occasionally fingered her hair, and she couldn't do it. She couldn't not want her. And no matter how much she tried, she couldn't make herself not want her mother to want her.

She knew it must feel the same way for Cordelia, so she didn't try to tell her it was okay. She didn't say anything. she held her until Cordelia's tears ceased, and only then did she tell her anything at all, arms still tightly around her.

"We'll get through this, Cor…I promise. I'll help you. We'll make it better."

There was some awkwardness between them when they eventually drew away from each other, with Cordelia retreating into the bathroom to blow her nose and wipe her eyes, but when she returned sitting to face Faith on the bed, close enough that their knees touched, she was composed again, serious, even as Faith was aware of the pain still standing in her gaze.

"Don't tell anyone about this. Any of this," she said quietly, and Faith knew she was speaking of more than her tears. "I don't want anyone to know. So please…don't tell them…any of them, Faith. Please."

Faith hesitated, still holding Cordelia's gaze. She much better than Cordelia understood the difficulties that awaited them if she agreed, if they were going to get through this without help. It had been such a short time she hadn't had to worry anymore, that she knew everybody was here to know, and she had money, food, and shelter…and now Cordelia was asking her to give it up again. She could understand and identify with her pride…but still…

"What about Giles," she said. "What about when he comes to pick me up for training?"

"I'll drive you to school with me…you can tell him you just decided to start coming early, to save him a trip. Please, Faith."

Cordelia had never looked at her like that before, like she depended on her. Like she trusted her…and with a slow inhalation, Faith nodded.

"I won't tell."

But as the girls lay sleepless in their bed hours later, Faith could only stare at the ceiling, wondering how long they could make it work.


	37. 37

Chapter 37

"Where you go, I'll go

Where you stay, I'll stay

When you move, I'll move

I will follow you"

"Follow you," Chris Tomlin

Author notes: Next chapter finally gets back onto canon action, lol.

Though they had had little sleep, both Faith and Cordelia awakened before the alarm went off, rolling over in bed to look at each other blearily, momentarily confused as to how exactly they had ended up where they were. As Faith's eyes scanned the room and registered it as a hotel, for a few seconds her mind whirred with brief near panic as she scrambled to remember whether she had been drinking, to determine whether she and Cordelia were dressed. But then as Cordelia sat up, rubbing at her eyes and making an irritable noise in her throat, the events of the previous day came back to her, and Faith was surprised by the heaviness of her relief.

Cordelia's hair was tousled, and she was in surprisingly girlish pajamas chosen for once for comfort rather than style, her face lined with weariness and free of makeup. Faith had never seen her in such a state before, not even late at night at her former poolside, not to this degree, and it was strangely both a little uneasy and a little gratifying, as though Cordelia was entrusting her with something she showed no one else.

For a few moments they avoided looking at each other from where they sat up in bed side by side, not touching. It had been one thing to lay down to sleep together the night before, in the dark, when emotions were running high and it hadn't been noticed if they brushed legs or lay with their arms touching. But now it was morning, the sunlight filtering in through the cheap blinds, and it was difficult not to feel a little strange at the newness of their circumstances.

They were both silent at first, and Faith was just beginning to wonder if time was really passing as slowly as it felt like, when Cordelia broke the ice with a shove to Faith's shoulder and a slight scowl.

"You hogged the covers," she accused, and Faith, grateful for the lead, retaliated immediately, giving her a nudge of her own.

"Well you snored like a freakin' buzzsaw."

"I did NOT," Cordelia snapped, her posture straightening indignantly, and Faith smirked as she stretched out her arms, nodding.

"Yeah you did, sounded just like this."

She imitated a loud, whistling snorting noise as Cordelia shoved her again, harder this time, and shook her head in vehement denial.

"You lie like Bill Clinton, Faith Lehane, YOU'RE the one who- dammit, is it really already 7:15?"

One glance at the clock and Cordelia was bolting out of bed, scrambling for an armful of clothing and toiletries as she hurried towards the small bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Although there was only one bathroom, and Cordelia took a considerable amount of time in there considering the need to rush, nevertheless both girls were ready and in their expected rooms at Sunnydale High at 8:00 on the dot, both dressed and groomed to their usual standards. Giles accepted Faith's explanation of her earlier arrival and even seemed impressed by her dedication and apparent consideration of him, and he asked no questions.

In fact, Faith was startled to realize as she went through her day, from what she could see, no one had. She had not seen anyone look at Cordelia with concern or ask her if anything was going on, and not only because Cordelia had told no one of the night before. No one asked, because Cordelia looked entirely as she usually did. Though Faith watched, even she, knowing what she did, found it difficult to detect in Cordelia's expression, behavior, and words that anything was different…and that amazed her, that Cordelia could be so skillful in projecting only the image that she wanted to, an image that said all was well.

But then, how was that so surprising…hadn't Cordelia done the same all along, showing nothing even as her father attempted to dominate her, sent her beloved housekeeper away, and her mother mostly ignored her existence? Hadn't Xander done nothing to indicate that he lived with an alcoholic father and neglectful, bickering parents? Hadn't she herself said nothing about her situation…even now, wasn't there much about her past that Faith didn't like to think about herself, let alone tell another living soul? And if knowing what she did about Cordelia, Faith herself still found it hard to look at her and see that something was wrong…had she maybe been expecting too much of Buffy and the others, to be able to see past it with herself?

It wasn't until the end of the day, when she and Cordelia wound up back in their hotel room for the night, that they were able to drop their guards enough to begin to talk about a plan.

"I checked my college fund today," Cordelia told Faith as she sat facing her on their bed, the only real furniture they currently possessed, after Faith had come back from patrol. Faith could already see from her expression that her findings had not been good, and she inhaled slowly, bracing herself. "My parents cleaned it out of all but $5000."

To Faith, who had never had $1000 in her life, this sounded like a fortune, and she smiled in relief, shrugging. "Well, that's a lot, Cor. I mean, if we eat cheap-"

"Faith, we have months of school left and summer after that, that is NOTHING," Cordelia corrected her forcefully, shaking her head. "We have to pay for gas and insurance, any needed car repairs, food, shelter, we need an apartment, because I am NOT staying in this hotel any longer than I have to. That money will be gone fast, and then what?"

Faith didn't know. She hadn't considered any of this, never having had as many of the expenses that Cordelia was declaring necessities. She paused, then said carefully, "Well, I know you don't want to tell any, but-"

"And we WON'T," Cordelia insisted, her eyes hard on Faith's, before she continued. "We can get a cheap apartment. This is Sunnydale, the death rate is so high there's no way the real estate market can be too high. So if we just get a cosigner for the apartment-"

"A cosigner?" Faith interrupted, brow furrowing, and Cordelia nodded impatiently, eager to move the conversation along- mainly, Faith suspected, to skip ahead to the part where Faith nodded and agreed.

"Yeah, I looked into that, and we're gonna need a cosigner. We're still underage, even me, technically, because I'm not 21, so for any credit card deals, I need an older adult who's going to sign vouching for me that if I don't pay, he will. It's a rule apparently," she rolled her eyes, the disgust in her tone and expression displaying exactly what she thought of this rule. "So there will have to be ONE and only ONE person we'll have to tell, to cosign for the apartment. ONE adult who we can get to keep his mouth shut without him constantly checking in or butting into our business or calling DSS for you and..well, I don't know for me, whoever he'd call for me."

Cordelia's eyes locked on Faith's, almost a challenge, and Faith frowned, considering their options.

"You mean Giles? You think Giles would do that- cosign for us, without telling anyone?"

"No, are you kidding?" Cordelia said with some incredulity, rolling her eyes. "I don't mean Giles, I mean Wesley. I think we should ask Wesley."

There was no way Faith could have heard her right. She just stared at Cordelia, waiting for what she had truly said to come to her, but when Cordelia just looked back at her, as if awaiting her response, she ahd to concede that her ears had not deceived her.

"Okay…WESLEY? You're not willing to tell anyone what's going on except one person…and you pick WESLEY?"

"Well, it's the only thing that makes sense," Cordelia maintained, and Faith gestured with a slight snort of incredulity.

"Yeah? Because I'm not seeing it. You want to make sure no one knows and everyone leaves you alone and doesn't help or pity you…so you're gonna ask for help from the guy who wants to play everything by the British Uptight Handbook of How Things Should be Done?"

"I'm not asking for HELP, I'm asking him to sign a few papers-"

"Which will HELP us get an apartment," Faith pointed out, but at Cordelia's glare, she leaned back against the headboard of the bed, listening with continued skepticism as Cordelia went on.

"I'm asking him to sign a few papers and keep his mouth shut, and I think he's the most likely person to actually be able to do it. Plus, I bet he's got the most obsessively perfect credit record."

That was probably true, Faith had to admit, but she was still far from convinced about the keeping his mouth shut part.

"And what makes you think Wes will keep quiet, just because you say so? You guys got something going on I don't know about?" she raised an eyebrow, half smirking, and Cordelia made a noise of disgust as she shoved at her, adamantly shaking her head again.

"NO, god, I thought that angel of yours was supposed to help you roll out of that gutter you like to spend so much time in. But he IS still into me, and I can use that to my advantage, trust me. And if he's as guilty over you and letting you slip through the cracks as you say…and if he's really easing up on thinking he has to be the master director of your and Buffy's every move…well, look at it this way, he's finally gonna feel like he's square. Giles, he's not about rules, he's about honor and doing right and blah blah blah, if we told him, first thing he'd do is say you're a minor, Faith, and you have to stay with him or Buffy, even if I don't. You know he would…and is that what you want?" Cordelia said pointedly, and though Faith didn't say so, she knew she was right.

"Wes, all we gotta do is have you threaten to break him if he tells, and he'll probably swallow his own tongue. He's our best shot, Faith."

And put like that, Faith thought that maybe she was right…but then, even with Wesley helping, there was still more to figure out.

"Well…how much rent a month is it?" she asked, and immediately grew suspicious of Cordelia's evasive reply. "Cor, just tell me already- how much?"

When Cordelia named the price, Faith almost choked. "No WAY, are you serious? My allowance from Wes is barely gonna cover motel rooms, let alone THAT! Shit, Cordy, we would have to eat at Buffy's house for every meal, and we STILL couldn't pay, and don't you think she'd get a little suspicious about us basically moving in without taking up the beds?"

"I'm not going to live in a hotel, and that's the most affordable one, and that is dirt cheap compared to the places I would actually WANT to live in!" Cordelia snapped. "We have to find a way, Faith, if we have to get it out of Wesley or rob a bank or figure out how to make counterfeit money, I don't' care, as long as no one else knows or figures it out, but I am NOT staying in a hotel room the rest of the school year! With an apartment, if anyone ever found out, we could at least say I WANTED to move out, but no one in their right mind would ever CHOOSE to live in a hotel!"

"Thanks a lot," Faith muttered, rolling her eyes, and Cordelia, realizing her statements, glanced over with a hint of apology reluctantly coming over her features.

"You know what I mean. I'm just not going to live in a hotel, okay?"

Well, if that was how it was going to be, and Cordelia had definitely established that it was, then that left only one option.

"Guess we're both getting jobs…better be decent paying jobs too," Faith shrugged, and Cordelia looked over at her sharply, her eyebrows arching. Considering that it had been she developing this plan of action, Faith was partly surprised, partly amused to realize that this was an idea that apparently had never occurred to her as a necessity.

"A job? As in working? As in, in public, where people will SEE me working?" Cordelia's eyes narrowed as she tossed her hair back behind one shoulder. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously," Faith replied, raising her eyebrows back at her. "Think about it, Cor. I was barely getting by living in a cheap-ass motel room, and that was just me. Now there's two of us, if we're sticking together through this. If we're gonna be in an apartment shelling out that kind of dough, and we're not telling anyone who might give it to us, because cosigner or not, I don't think Wes can afford that, then that kinda means we're gonna need jobs, doesn't it?"

As reasonably as this was worded, it wasn't sitting well with Cordelia. She scowled, her hands gripping her crossed legs as she let this sink in.

"How are we supposed to keep quiet that we're working? I mean, yeah, I quit cheerleading when I got impaled through the stomach, so I don't have to make excuses there, but YOU, you've got slaying and patrols, and Buffy and Xander breathing down your neck, aren't they going to be asking you why you're not around? And what about me, what if someone sees me WORKING?"

"I won't have to make excuses, I'll tell them the truth," Faith shrugged. "I'll tell them I got a job because I want extra money. You can either pick a place to work where no one goes and no one will see you, or else you can say your dad made you get a job as punishment or something…that could work."

Cordelia shrugged, unenthused, and Faith nudged her, giving her a smile. "You can talk to Wes tomorrow, or both of us, if you want, so I can stand and look threatening. Then we go get our jobs, and we're all set. It's not gonna be so bad, Cor…it's not gonna be all that hard at all, I think we've got a plan."

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By the end of the week, however, Faith had quite a different view. Things had gone pretty easily for Cordelia, as she had thought, but for herself, they hadn't gone as she wanted or expected at all.

Just as Cordelia had assured Faith, she had been able to get Wesley to agree to cosign their apartment, and not tell anyone about it either. And so far he had kept his word. He had begun to give Faith looks sometimes while working with Giles in training her, as though trying to ask or see without asking in words if she was okay, and he had shown shock and concern when Cordelia and Faith had spoken with him, asking in his stumbling but sincere way if there was anything more he could do to help. But he had not yet told anybody, nor did Faith think he was going to.

But finding a job…that part was not going so well.

Cordelia had found a job within two days, working at a formalwear store. She was even making a dollar above minimum wage, though she had griped to Faith that she didn't know how ANYONE could survive on such low pay. Nevertheless, she had a job, she was earning money, and Faith, meanwhile, knew she wasn't pulling her weight as much as she wanted to be…and if she didn't get a job within a few months, and definitely by the end of the summer, she knew that Cordelia's college fund and earnings would run out.

It wasn't that she'd not tried. Whenever Faith wasn't at school or not patrol she was looking for jobs, putting in applications, trying to find somewhere, anywhere willing to hire her. But very few called her back, and those that did- only a few fast food places and one clothing store in the mall- had looked at her stone-faced when she went in for interviews, as if there was something wrong with her or her answers, though she couldn't figure out what their problem was. And they never gave her the job.

Eventually she vented to Cordelia, frustrated, when she returned from patrol, and Cordelia from her new job. Their new apartment was small, barely furnished, and the two bedrooms were scarcely larger than a walk in closet, but it was still one of the nicest places Faith had ever lived, even if Cordelia was understandably disgruntled with it.

"Why don't they hire me? They hired YOU, okay, even BUFFY used to be a waitress, how picky can they possibly be?"

Cordelia had eyed her critically, then proceeded to ask her questions that had seemed totally irrelevant to Faith, but once she had heard all of her answers, she had sighed, shaking her head partly in disbelief, partly in irritation, but with some reluctant amusement as well.

"Well, damn, Faith, no wonder no one wants to hire you, I wouldn't either. You don't know a thing about how to do applications or interviews, you made it totally obvious you've never had a job before."

"Well neither have you, and they hired you!" Faith had shot back defensively, crossing her arms. "What does that matter?"

"Because if you put down that you can't work mornings or early afternoons, or late evenings, when you don't have kids, another job, previous work experience, or school, then it looks like you're a lazy high school dropout who sleeps all day and then wants to only work a few hours," Cordelia said bluntly, and Faith pointed a finger at her irritably in protest.

"But that's not true! I have training til afternoon and patrol late at night, some nights, I'm a SLAYER, dammit!"

"And then if you show up in interviews wearing jeans, one of your cleavage shirts, chewing gum, and talking to them the same way you talk to everyone else, and then inform them you're not in school, don't want to go back to school, don't have a GED, yet can only work between 2-8 on weekdays despite that, yeah, you're not gonna be anyone's first pick," Cordelia had continued, rolling her eyes, and Faith had frowned, genuinely startled by this. She hadn't figured minimum wage places would be so picky.

"Shit…why didn't you TELL me before I applied to every place in the whole frickin' town?"

Faith's frustration and certainty that she would never be able to finally land a job and do her part to help pay rent continued until Earl showed up the next day, while Cordelia was at work. She had been more than happy to vent at him, as he and Cordelia were really the only ones she had to option to talk to without hiding anything, and he had listened with patient amusement before offering his usual mildly worded advice.

"Well, sounds like you know how to change things for your next interview, anyway…what you need now is to make it where you'll get more opportunities to have some more of those. And that's something you can fix. Thing is, that's gonna take a little time…and a lot of effort."

"What are you getting at?" she asked suspiciously, and Earl had chuckled at her expression.

"Ever think about getting back to school, Faith, getting your GED?"

That had hardly been what she'd expected to hear, and she had turned to stare at him, mouth opening before words emerged, their incredulity clear.

"Uh, NO. Why would I do THAT?"

"Well, it would help you get a better chance of getting hired, for one," Earl replied, steepling his figners together as he cut his eyes towards her. "Wider variety of jobs you can get, if you graduated high school or got your GED. It's a competitive market out there, Faith, and if you don't have experience working and you ain't in school or finished in school, people ain't gonna feel good about hiring you. And it helps if you know how to present yourself too, whether or not they're worried about your schooling."

Faith huffed through her teeth as she crossed her arms, slouching down in her couch as she almost glared up at him.

"Well that's stupid. It's not like I need to be able to recite the plots of Shakespeare to get any of those stupid jobs. Who the hell are they to be so damn judgmental anyway, they don't KNOW me, they should know anyone can do their stupid jobs. What the hell does it matter if I wore jeans to an interview and quit school?"

"But that's it exactly, Faith," Earl countered. "Anyone can do the jobs you're going for, so the way they're gonna look at it is, even for little jobs, they're gonna pick the people out of all those anyones that can do it they think are gonna be the best. And if you ain't doing what you can to make yourself look like the best, you ain't gonna be the one they choose. That's just how it is."

"Well, that's stupid," she growled again, kicking one foot against the couch as her hair straggled to partly cover her face. "That's too much hassle for a stupid minimum wage job, they can keep it!"

"You want a job, those are the things you should do," Earl shrugged, unbothered as usual by her attitude. "You're a smart girl, Faith, you can connect the dots. And you can get your GED."

He eyed her before adding shrewdly, "You don't want Cordelia to be supporting you for too long, now, do you?"

That was the question that stopped her, that made her reluctantly reconsider the question in a new way. She was very aware of Earl watching as she struggled with this, knowing even as she did so what the outcome would have to be.

"I haven't been to school in over a year," she muttered begrudgingly, when she finally spoke. "And I was never a genius in the first place. How am I supposed to get my GED when I don't' have a clue about anything anymore? And if I'm supposed to get one FAST, it's totally hopeless. Shit, I don't even know how to go about taking the stupid test."

"So you get someone to help you then," Earl replied, and Faith snorted, shaking her head.

"Please. Okay, Buffy's barely passing either, and Xander. Cordy's got enough going on. Wesley doesn't even know what they teach in America, and anyway he and Giles have been so busy trying to figure out about the Mayor's box, and Willow-"

At Willow's name she stopped, not needing to see Earl's pointed look to have the answer hit her. Half covering her face with one hand, Faith shook her head, sighing loudly as reluctance, even dread, tightened in her chest.

"Oh shit…seriously?"

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And that was how, after an afterschool meeting the next day, Faith found herself gingerly taking Willow's arm as the girl stood to go with the others, keeping her voice low as Willow turned quickly, looking at her in surprise.

"Hey…can we talk for a minute?"

Willow's eyes narrowed with confusion and suspicion, but she nodded slowly as she pulled her arm free, glancing towards the others before replying.

"Uh…okay…what's up, Faith?"

Faith was more nervous than she had expected as she gestured for Willow to follow her into the loft of the library, out of the range of Giles and Wesley's hearing. Though she knew they would find out about her endeavor, she would rather not have them do it the second she lay herself at Willow's mercy. Swallowing, she squared her shoulders as she faced the faintly frowning girl, looking her in the eye.

"Uh, Red- I mean, Willow- I wanted to ask…well, I kind of need your help with something."

Willow's features tensed further as her apprehension became more apparent, and she continued to frown at Faith, an edge remaining in her tone.

"My help? What's going on…is something wrong?"

Her expression became more anxious, her eyes sharpening as a new thought occurred to her. "Is it Buffy? Is something wrong with Buffy, or Xander-"

"No, no," Faith assured her, shaking her head, and as she shifted her weight, clearing her throat uncomfortably, she added, "I…uh…kind of need you to help me with something. I was…kind of thinking of getting my GED."

At the gaping astonishment Willow showed, Faith's ears reddened with both embarrassment and irritation. What, was it so unbelievable that she might do this- did Willow think she was THAT dumb?

"REALLY?" Willow gasped, and Faith nodded, jaw clinched, and forced herself to continue calmly.

"Yeah, but…it's kinda been a long time since I've been in school…so…I thought…well, you tutor people…and…"

Shit this was humiliating, she thought in growing discomfort, and some anger too, as she watched Willow hesitate, her eyebrows drawing together as she appraised Faith. What was she supposed to do if Willow turned her down? Willow couldn't stand her, Willow was jealous of her, Willow would love to get in whatever kicks she could against her…what was she supposed to do if she said no? This was a stupid idea.

But then Willow nodded slowly, taking a deep breath, and lifted her eyes back to Faith's.

"Okay…I, I will. Help you…when do you want to start? And…when do you want to take the test?"

And so they had begun, within two minutes, in fact. By the next day Willow had books and a schedule, worksheets and requirements, and she expected Faith to abide by them. If Faith thought she had been working hard in her training, it was nothing compared to the ass-kicking Willow's tutoring was giving her. For the moment, at least, job hunting was replaced with studying, and in between training in the day, studying in the afternoon, and slaying in the evening, Faith was exhausted at the end of each day. More than once Cordelia had been amused to come home from work and find Faith asleep on the couch, a book open on her lap before Cordelia's jostling jerked her awake. But though Cordelia was currently the only one working, and griping about it often, Faith knew without needing to hear her say so that she was happy about her studying, even proud.

And so was everyone else, as they all made clear once they learned of her efforts. Buffy and Xander, Wesley and Giles, and even Joyce had made sure to tell Faith that they thought she was doing a good thing for herself, and that they were sure she'd do well. Giles and Wesley offered to help, though Faith had turned them down, inwardly shuddering at their eagerness, and Buffy had offered to let her study rather than patrol sometimes if she chose. Even the laconic Oz had nodded and replied "Cool" when he heard from Willow. Though it embarrassed Faith, she was also secretly pleased when Giles and Joyce had told her she was a smart girl. It was something she had never heard before, certainly not a way she would ever describe herself.

But working with Willow, she was beginning to think it possible that maybe they could be right. Willow was a good teacher, patient and clear, adjusting to meet Faith's understanding…and for the first time, Faith was beginning to think that, as Willow knew almost immediately, it wasn't that she couldn't learn, it was that she learned best through practical application rather than rote memorization. And the more she began to get things, the more she wanted to…and she began to think it possible that she could get her GED about the time everyone else would graduate. And as Faith continued to genuinely try, she began to sense that this was changing Willow too, softening her dislike for her. How long could she continue to dislike a girl who was taking her seriously, yielding to her expertise, and trying to do her best academically?

Not long, as it turned out. Within a few days Willow's stiff, careful way of talking and relating to Faith had relaxed, and by the end of the week she was in her glory with her teaching, lecturing earnestly and intently, face aglow. She seemed as pleased as Faith when Faith began to understand subjects that were difficult for her, and she even smiled at her genuinely. As the ice began to thaw between them, Willow was soon as civil, even friendly, with her in the lunch room and round the others as when teaching her, even if signs of jealousy did still occasionally show through. As for Faith, she was surprised by how much she appreciated the change.

By the end of the month everything was still going well. Wesley had kept Faith and Cordelia's secret and checked in on them sometimes, Faith was on her way to her GED, her relationships with everyone were the best they had ever been, especially with Cordelia in their newfound close quarters and their shared secret, and though Earl came by often, he was no longer pushing her to do anything. All he seemed to want to do was chat, which Faith didn't mind. All was well.

And that's why Faith should have been wary of the next blow to come.


	38. 39

"Ready yourselves, oh ready yourselves

May the powers of darkness tremble…

Like voices in the wilderness we're crying out

And as the day draws near, we'll sing it til the whole world hears"

"Until the whole world hears," Casting Crowns

From the rooftops of the city hall, the main building in which the Mayor of Sunnydale could be found at any given time, Buffy, Faith, Angel, and Willow peered down into the skylight of the room in the right corner of the building's highest story, gazing at the battered-looking box plainly visible in the middle of its floor. The box was made of dark wood, carved with intricate symbols and designs across its surface, and the moment was heavy with anticipation. This was the box of Garvok, the only way they knew of to keep the Mayor's Ascenscion from happening…and with a little skill and a lot of luck, it would soon be in their possession.

Faith was finding it difficult to stand still, to wait patiently. She could feel her pulse in her temples, the adrenaline spiking in her veins, and all she wanted was to jump straight into action, even though, if things went as planned, she wouldn't exactly be doing much. She was basically there in case something went wrong and her strength or fighting prowess was needed…and though of course she hoped all would go smoothly, that didn't mean part of her didn't hope she wouldn't get to do SOMETHING other than stand back and watch everyone else.

She caught Buffy's eye and grinned. Buffy briefly returned her smile, readjusting her hold on the cable she and Angel had hooked her up to, which would lower her down into the skylight. Angel had already carefully removed the glass with little incident, and looked down with his usual stoicism, showing no sign of either excitement or anxiety at what they were about to do.

Willow, however, had no such emotional control. Her face was very pale, her hands tightly gripping the drawstring bag in her hand, and her eyes darted between the others. When Buffy spoke to her, she jumped, as if not expecting anyone to break the silence.

"Ready, Will?" Buffy asked, and Willow took in a deep breath, nodding, and gave a very forced smile.

"As Freddy…except I don't know who Freddy is, or what he's ready for…but, but I'm ready."

"Angel? Faith?" Buffy checked, and both nodded affirmatives. So when eyes turned back to Willow, the girl stepped forward, her expression still showing her nervousness, and opened her drawstring bag.

Taking some of its contents into her hand, she spoke several sentences of Latin over the skylight, then dropped the ingredients into her hand down onto the box so far below. Faith's eyes were glued to her, and still she barely managed to keep herself still.

Just the day before, none of them had had any idea how to stop the Mayor's rapidly approaching Ascension or how to get hold of the box of Garvok that Allan Finch had told Faith about, and it had seemed there were no promising leads. Wesley and Giles had diligently researched, only to find that although there were books about the box and the makings of an Ascension, they were very rare and beyond the reach of their literal and figurative grasps- and both suspected that those books were to be found in the possession of the Mayor. It had seemed that they would be unable to do anything to stop him.

And then had come a breakthrough- and from Angel, of all people. After all of Wesley's and Giles's meticulous reading, they had all amounted to wasted effort when Angel glided through the library doors the night before, announcing that he had not only discovered where the box was, he had seen it with his own eyes.

Angel had, as he explained, been watching the Mayor and his employees for several weeks now, using his skill at silent, stealthy lurking in the shadows to his advantage to attempt to gather any information they could to be used against the Mayor. That night he had watched a vampire walk into the Mayor's headquarters with a very odd box in his arms. Making his way around the building, continuing to watch and listen where he could, Angel had realized that it was in fact the box they had been after.

Climbing the roof when he had deduced it was being taken to the top floor, Angel had found it easily through the room's skylight, but sensed the protective force field around it. If they could disintegrate the force field, break into the box's room through the skylight, and steal, then destroy it, he had explained, they could keep the Mayor from being able to ascend.

Immediately the others had come up with a plan to accomplish this. Giles and Wesley would remain at the library the next evening, with as many items as they could think of which might potentially destroy the box when the others brought it back. Cordelia, Oz, and Xander would remain in Xander's van, which he would drive as getaway, while Faith, Buffy, Angel, and Willow would make their way to the city hall roof. Willow would use magic to deactivate the force field around the box. Angel would set up a pulley to lower Buffy into the room to take the box, and possibly Faith as well if her help was needed. If they thought it safe and their time ample to do so, Buffy would also look for possible books on the Ascension that might happen to be in the room.

It was a plan that would be quick, simple, and easy if it went as it was supposed to…but completely disastrous if it didn't.

As Willow finished her chant, then stepped back, nodding a nervous okay, Buffy positioned herself over the skylight's opening, Angel firmly gripping her lever and pulley to lower her. One last glance around and then Buffy too nodded assent to begin. Slowly she began to descend, arms already outstretched to receive the box, and Faith leaned forward unconsciously, as if placing herself with her in the moment. Her palms itched with her desire to be there with Buffy , being the first to feel the weight of the box in her hands.

But when Buffy put her hands on the box, lifting it in the air, a shrill siren went off, making everyone on the roof, as well as Buffy in her pulley, freeze with horror. As Buffy dangled in midair, the box of Garvok gripped in her hands, the door to the room flew open, and three vampires stepped forward menacingly, their lips curved back into snarls.

This was officially one plan that had been shot to hell, was all Faith could think as Buffy gave the vampires a quick smile and head nod, quipping in her trademark fashion.

"Hi, I thought I'd hang a while, but it's late, and I really had better be going now. See you in a cemetery."

But although Angel was trying to pull her up as fast as possible, the pulley was turning more slowly, the added weight of the box making its load too heavy to go any faster. Even as Angel fiercely redoubled his efforts, the vampires reached Buffy, seizing her legs, grabbing at the box, and Faith knew there was no way he could bring her up in time, not at that rate…

Without a second thought Faith leapt down into the room through the skylight, her feet hitting one vampire squarely in the chest, as she had intended, and knocking him away from Buffy. Scrambling to her feet, she seized the other two by their shirt collars and threw them against the wall, shouting up at the others.

"Pull her up, hurry! Take the box and go, I'll get out in a minute, GO!"

As Angel continued to reel Buffy in, despite Buffy's anxious protests, Faith spun around to deliver a powerful kick into the solar plexus of the first vampire to come at her again, then slammed her fist into the jaw of the next. She could feel herself starting to grin, her hair flying out as she lashed out again, enjoying the moment when she first began to psyche herself up for battle. She had hoped for this…she had wanted this, and as soon as Angel had Buffy-

Before she could block it, one of the vampire's fists caught Faith in the side of her head, hard enough to momentarily stun her. She was only dimly aware of Angel pulling first the box, then Buffy, up onto the roof, then Buffy's anxious voice shouting something down at her even as Faith fumbled for the stake stuck in her belt.

"I've got it- go! Lower the pulley, I'll get myself up- take the box and go!" she shouted back up at them, just as one vampire seized her, the other two moving to do so as well.

Though she did not look up at the skylight again, she vaguely sensed something moving and suspected either Angel or Buffy was making off with the box as the other lowered the pulley for her. Staking one vampire, she spun around, shaking off the other even as she received another painful blow to the head, a blow that again gave her pause. Still, as the next vampire made as if to run at her, she managed to meet him head on by thrusting out her stake, sending him scattering as well.

There was only one vampire left, very little challenge indeed…but no sooner had she thought this then there was a loud squeaking of shock and fear, and Willow fell, arms jerking wildly, through the skylight, landing on her hands and knees with a loud thud.

Faith didn't know what was going on; she didn't know if Buffy and Angel had already left with the box, intending to leave Willow to watch her and make sure she was okay, or if they hadn't realized that Willow was not behind them and had in fact fallen in. She didn't know if they were about to jump in to help or if they trusted Faith's word that she was all right and could protect Willow too. All she knew was that Willow was down here with her, with no stake and lesser ability to fight, and that she was not likely to possess the upper body strength to pull herself up the pulley without help. And these factors were enough for her to turn to Willow and shout at her urgently the orders she thought the girl should follow to stay safe.

"Willow, run!" she yelled as she hurried stepped in front of the vampire, deliberately taking an approaching blow meant for Willow that was hard enough to make her head spin. "Out the door- get out of here, now! Go!"

"Faith- what about you- what about-" Willow began even as she scrambled to her feet, her features tensed, but Faith gestured furiously, not looking at her anymore as the vampire, taking advantage of her brief distraction, seized her by the hair, forcing her head towards him.

"I said GO, Willow, I got it, fucking GO!"

With one last glance, forehead wrinkled in continuing concern, eyes wide, Willow ran for the door, closing one hand around the doorknob. The vampire lunged toward her, one hand outstretched, fangs bared as he abandoned Faith in favor of the fleeing girl, but Faith took his shoulders and threw him into the nearest wall, shouting at Willow again. As Willow pulled the door open, Faith braced herself, half expecting another alarm to go off, or for another gang of vampires to apprehend her. But nothing happened, so with one more glance back at Faith, Willow disappeared out the doorway, presumably, Faith hoped, to look for an unguarded exit- or at least a place to hide until it was safe to leave.

With no one there to distract her, and only one vampire left to fight, it was a simple matter for Faith to recover her stake and put it through the last vampire's heart, sending him to join the other two into a newly created dustpile. Faith grinned, pulse still elevated as she shook her hair back from her face, taking a moment to relish the slays before she turned back towards the doorway. Sure, she could easily escape through the open skylight, but she had Willow to think of- if Buffy and Angel hadn't come back for her yet, then Faith should make sure she was okay, and had found an exit. If she hadn't- well, then Faith needed to help her make her way out of here. Buffy and Angel had the box, and that was what mattered…now all she had to do was make sure she and Willow both got the hell out.

But Faith had barely stepped towards the door before it swung open without her aid, almost hitting her in the face. The figure that stood in the doorway, a smirk curving his thin lips, was tall and sinewy, with cheekbones so sharply cut they almost looked painful, and icy blue eyes. One eyebrow showed a prominent scar splitting through, he wore all black, including a trenchcoat nearly long enough to touch the floor, and his hair was so white blonde as to have only been made possible with the help of peroxide.

As Faith stared at him, clueless as to his identity, the man she knew instinctively to be a vampire crossed his arms, taking up the entire doorway as he leaned against it casually…and as she noticed three more vampires come up behind him, lurking over his shoulder as they regarded her with menacing leers.

"Well this is right interesting," the blonde vampire, who appeared to be the one in charge, almost sneered, his voice carrying a strong British accent that Faith had not expected. "The other Slayer, finally come to grace me with the opportunity for her death, eh? What, has Blondie decided to retire- chased off by all the ghoulies and beasties, riding off into the moonlight with her nancy boy and his hair gel? Or does she just like to use her second in command to do all the dirty work, sending her little sidekick into the belly of the beast?"

So this guy knew Buffy, and Angel too from the sound of it…not that this was a surprise. It seemed like everything in Sunnydale, whether alive or undead, knew of her, and was more than willing to brag about their intentions to kill her. It was the fact that even after all of this time, most of them couldn't seem to know or remember that Faith was a Slayer too, and had a name that kind of pissed her off…and to be called Buffy's SIDEKICK? This guy and his stupid peroxide head was in for a world of hurt.

"Belly of the beast? What beast- YOU?" she sneered, the incredulity in her tone and expression obvious. "It's not like Billy Idol is exactly bedroom fantasy material, but I wouldn't call him a scary monster either. Well except for the eyeliner- now that's fuckin' frightening. As for me being the sidekick, well, how about you sample my sidekick and then see if you get a little bit of an opinion switch on that?"

Before she had fully finished speaking Faith was already lunging forward, stake in hand even as she twisted her body, leaping into the air, legs extended, to deliver the kick she had promised. She was satisfied when it caught the smirking vampire hard in the side as she had wished, sending him knocking back into the other vampires behind him. Eyes glinting, Faith continued forward, but both the vampire and those behind him recovered faster than she had expected, and moved faster too.

Two of the vampires grabbed Faith, one by her right arm, one by her waist, and she felt sharp fingernails almost like claws dig into her shirt, tearing her skin beneath. She twisted her torso, but they hung on tight. She elbowed one harshly in the side, but by then the third was up and grabbing her by the throat, his hand squeezing tighter until she began to choke, airway cutting off, black dots beginning to swim before her eyes as she used the hand not still clutching her stake to claw at his, her foot repeatedly lifting and dropping in her effort to stomp on his, but missing often, her effort uncontrolled. One vampire was still gripping her arm, squeezing until her circulation was nearly cut off, and then the blonde was also standing before her, his face close to hers, amusement in his gaze as he stood with arms crossed, legs wide apart, assessing her.

"Nothing to say now, is that right, Madame Sidekick? Guess it's a bit difficult to run on with a blockage to your voicebox…let her loose, Kurt."

The vampire who had been choking her dropped her, and Faith had barely managed to suck in a deep breath before the blonde had seized her arm and twisted it behind her back, the same arm holding her stake. Faith tried to jerk away, but the force of her gesture only aided him, resulting in her arm yanking so far in an unnatural direction, trapped by his grasp, that Faith gasped, just before she distinctly heard the sound of the bone snapping and felt sharp pain spike through her. She knew that her arm was next to useless now, and as she gritted her teeth hard, riding out the pain even as she determinedly tried to yank her injured arm from his grasp, the blonde chuckled, deftly plucking her stake from her loosened fingers. Raising a scarred eyebrow at the other vampires, who came forward to all hold down the still-struggling Faith, he stepped back and watched, casually tossing her stake from hand to hand.

"Won't be needing this little stick, I wager…"

He heaved it through the skylight, and Faith watched her only instrument soar beyond her range of recovery, her stomach sinking, heart beating faster and faster as her mouth went dry. She would get out of this…she had to get out of this. She and Willow both. Willow was out, Willow had gone for help, someone would come back and help. She was a Slayer…she was Faith the Fucking Vampire Slayer, and she was getting out of this, because there was no way in hell a fucking Billy Idol wannabe bloodsucker was going to be the one she let take her down.

This was not like with her Watcher…this was not like with Diana. Faith would not let herself think it. But even as she thought this fiercely, her mind did not cooperate, and it took all she had to force back the terrible sharply defined memories pressing at the borders of her mind, the images wanting to show themselves in her inner view.

The blonde vampire turned back to her then, still nearly swaggering as he spoke with undisguised satisfaction, his lean form looming over hers.

"You might make dust of the hangers-on, but no one makes ashes of Spike," he declared, lifting his chin, and Faith sputtered a dry laugh, curling her lips into as mocking a smile as she could manage.

"SPIKE- you call yourself SPIKE? What are you, a damn Doberman? A pro wrestler?"

The blonde- Spike, he had called himself- lost his smirk abruptly then, his self-satisfaction shifting to first confusion, then disbelief, as he stared down at her, almost aghast.

"You didn't know my name? Are you sodding kidding me?" he asked, incredulous, and as Faith shook her head, maintaining her glare, even as she clinched her jaw against the pain in her arm, the clammy feel of the vampire's icy flesh against hers.

"Figured it was Billy Idol…only he's way hotter than your bony undead ass."

"How many times do I have to tell you lot, he stole his look from ME!" Spike snapped, but he was still staring at her with a look in his eyes that she was astonished to see seemed to be hurt. "None of them told you about me- the new Slayer sidekick, and they didn't fill you in on Spike, on William the Bloody? No one mentioned me almost destroying the world, then helping save it…showing up Angelus, the blood of innocents, none of it?"

"Guess they had better things to talk about, Bleach Boy," Faith shrugged, subtly trying to adjust her body in such a way that she could break out of the other vampire's grasp, but Spike wasn't yet finished expressing his dismay at his apparent lack of notoriety.

"Only vampire alive with the death of two Slayers to my credit- they never mentioned that?"

"Like I said, better things to talk about," Faith replied, "not that it's hard to find something more interesting to talk about than a guy who picks a name that shows a total obsession with dicks, which means he's either a total fag or such a pansy-ass mama's boy he's got to act like he wants someone other than her to give him some once in a while, so he decides he's gonna call himself some stupid-ass name like Spike-"

Before she could finish the sentence Spike had stepped forward, seizing Faith's broken arm and wrenching it so viciously she heard several more bones crack and grind together, forcing her to emit an involuntary cry. She was still riding out this pain when he kicked her with great force in the ribs, breaking several with the brutality of this blow. As she gasped for breath, hair hanging in front of her eyes, Spike stood over her, all amusement gone from his eyes and tone.

"You seem not to realize, Miss Buffy Summers Wannabe, that you are speaking to a man who isn't just the Mayor's right hand man, as disposable as the rest," Spike almost growled, his features set into his vampiric form now as he leaned in close to her, nearly scraping her throat with one fang. "They called me William the Bloody before your mum's mum was a thought. Even without the advantages working for Wilkins gives out, I could destroy the world and only be sorry for the loss of easy access to meals. There are no bloody women in my life anymore to hold me back or tie me down, no more bloody women to interfere with what I'm meant to be…and no Slayer girl, especially a second-rate guttermouth little wench of the likes of you, is going to get in my way. I have killed two Slayers, and it would be bloody easy and satisfying to kill a third."

He drew back from her slightly, still smiling his twisted grin, before giving a short nod to the other vampires, instructing them.

"Chain up Miss Wannabe Buffy here, and mind you make it tight when you hang her from the ceiling. Last thing I need is her wriggling so it comes out of the bracing and leaves holes, it came out of my wages to repair it the last time."

And as the three vampires obeyed, one of them disappearing from the room, presumably to get the chains, the other two jerked Faith to her feet, further wrenching her broken arm and straining her ribs so she had to bite down hard on her tongue. Even as she fought with herself, telling herself not to give in and give the satisfaction of a reaction, her throat closed over, and her heart beat so wildly beyond her control she was sure he must hear it. He would kill her, she knew. He was not bluffing. But it was not impending death so much as what she might endure first, before death came, that froze her now.

Diana's face, features strained and distorted with her anguish, naked body shivering and savaged, exposed…Diana's harsh whisper, telling her to go, telling her to run…

"I think we will have a little chat," Spike told her conversationally, even as his eyes bore hard into hers, the pupils dark. "You are going to tell me who it is that has that box and where they've taken it, and what exactly it is they know. And if you don't, you will be punished for it…but then again, if you do, you'll be punished for it too, because let's face it, Slayer Wannabe, blood, guts, and torture is a bloody fun way to pass an evening."

As the vampire who had left the room earlier returned, arms loaded not only with thick, strong coils of chains and screws, but also weaponry of various kinds, Faith felt her eyes grow larger, her color fading even as she tried to maintain a blank face. Even with the fresh agony it brought, when they dragged her to the wall, forcing the chains around her so roughly her body shrieked, she fought for all she had, refusing to simply allow them to do as they wanted with her, even though she knew her efforts were useless, simply sapping her strength.

She couldn't do it…she couldn't just let them take her without a fight, even if she knew her fight would lead to her death.

But another blow to her head that blurred her vision and rendered her too stunned to move gave them opportunity, and within a few minutes Faith was dangling from the wall and ceiling, any movement she made badly twisting her broken arm and ribs to the point she truly thought her entire body would break. And as Spike stepped forward, she knew her pain in the moment was nothing in comparison to what was about to come her way.


	39. 39

"I'm just a step away  
I'm just a breath away  
Losing my faith today  
Falling off the edge today

I am just a man  
Not superhuman  
I'm not superhuman"

Skillet, "Hero"

Author notes: Faith's insults to God are not intended to offend anyone and are not my own views, they are hers, obviously bred out of pain, fear, and sense of betrayal.

Bottom of Form

""Spike asked the other vampires to leave the room before he started in on her; he wanted it to be just him and Faith alone, with him maintaining full control. And for over 45 minutes, that was exactly how it was.

"The Slayer and her groupies have forgotten about you…no, what it is, is they just don't care," Spike had sneered, his face so close to hers as he tightly squeezed her upper arms, trapped above her head in the chains, that Faith could smell his breath. "They know you're here, and they CHOOSE not to come for you. They know what will be done to you, and they don't care…got to save the world, they do, and bugger what happens to you."

And the hell of it was, Faith knew he was right. No one would come for her…no one would save her, not if it meant risking the safety of the box. And she couldn't blame them. One life- her sorry life, no less- measured against the lives of everyone else in Sunnydale, maybe everyone in the world? Of course they wouldn't pick her. They would have to be crazy to do that. Faith didn't want to die, but she also didn't want to doom the rest of the world by her survival. No, she knew what the others had decided…all she had to do now was accept it.

"They abandoned you, Madame Sidekick," Spike had continued, even as he stuck lit cigarettes against her chest and arms, grinding them into her skin so she had to grit her teeth to make no sound, not only from the pain, but also from the memories of another hand, other cigarettes, of the scars still visible on the back of her neck, concealed under her heavy fall of hair. "They've left you alone to suffer and die…why should you give a toss what happens to them or the rest of the world? Bugger them…and hurt them back. Tell me what they've done with the box…and maybe I'll end it fast for you. Maybe, I'll even let you go…if you say it to my liking."

Once, Faith might have taken this offer…once, she might have taken his words to heart, believed them out of enduring hurt and fear more to do with experiences in her past than her present. But now she faced him with chin lifted, eyes hard, and spoke with as much contempt as she could manage.

"The only thing to your liking is your mama's ass, so sorry, Bleach Boy, I'm never gonna fill those shoes."

As she had expected, that remark hadn't been lightly received, and the pain Spike had dealt her after that had escalated. After hitting her hard enough in the nose that blood sprayed, and she was sure it too was broken, then punching her twice in the side of the head until her vision blackened briefly and her ears roared, he had brought out further instruments, and Faith had known that she was in for a very long night.

He had repeatedly drenched her with bucketsful of near freezing water, so that Faith had gasped and shivered so badly against her now icy chains that she could feel her arm muscles tearing, rib bones scraping against her side. He had burned her with cigarettes and hit her in the stomach, face, and chest, both with his fists and a steel pipe, until she was badly bruised, bleeding, and broken, barely able to suppress her screams. He had carved his name into the flesh of her stomach, cutting through her shirt first so her chest was exposed to his view…and all the while he was smiling, thoroughly enjoying every moment.

"Blunt…sharp…hot…cold…now what is it I'm forgetting?" he asked aloud, crossing his arms, before shifting to his vampiric face once more, moving in on her with fangs moving past his lips in a vicious grin.

"Oh, that's right- I forgot BITE!"

And as he had sank his fangs into the skin of her wrist, sucking forcefully, Faith had stiffened with the intense sharpness of the pain, unable to speak. No matter how hard she tried now, she could not get through this for another moment without envisioning her Watcher's eyes, slowly fading as she watched her die, as the vampires latched onto her chained form, draining her life away…she could not stop from thinking it had come full circle.

She had not saved Diana, the one woman she had loved and trusted, the one person in all the world who had loved and trusted her, saw potential and pride in her that no one else could….she had not rescued Diana from this fate, and now it was her karma that she too would not be rescued. She had not rescued Diana, and she would now die in the very same way.

And this dark thought, a thought that was nearly a certainty in Faith's mind, so frightened her, choking her throat with bitter grief at the completeness of her perceived failure that she could not speak any longer, could not force words past her lips. She could only endure as Spike's fangs pierced her other wrist as well, creating an identical wound that throbbed with the pain of the sharpness of his fangs in her skin and the dizzyinig slow emptying of the blood in her veins.

She had been doing okay until this point- Faith had been proud of the way she didn't let him get the best of her, didn't let him see her falter or show anything towards him but amusement and contempt. No matter what he did to hurt her, or how badly she was forced to struggle for breath, grit her teeth, or bite her cheeks to ride out pain, she had controlled it, and even wisecracked through it.

But about the time he had cut open her shirt, her fear had intensified, becoming more and more difficult to conceal. She had thought unceasingly of Diana's nudity, plainly showing the ravages her body had suffered, and had to try hard not to shudder or close her eyes, knowing that to do so would not mean she would not see…that she would not remember. The worst of memory was, it was with you no matter how much you wanted to turn your face away. She could almost feel other hands, hands from nearly a decade before, ghosting over her outside her permission, beyond her ability to control, and she caught her breath in spite of herself, hardly daring to allow the word "rape" to spring up, harsh and clear, into her thoughts, to understand that it was possible.

But Spike had shown no interest in those ways of torture- at least, up until this point- only in causing as much physical pain as slowly as he could manage, taking plenty of time to gloat in between. For this, Faith knew, she should be relieved…but even so, being unable to stay focused on the present moment, on giving back the best she was able in retaliation for what she was given, as she constantly flickered mentally to another time, another location, another vampire she was forced to face…to another person just as injured, another facing certain death…to the memory of her Watcher, her guardian's death. Even so it became too much, too hard to keep resisting, and she made the decision to provoke Spike to the point where he would end it. To the point where he would kill her.

Looking him directly in the eye, shortly after he had started in on his "sharp" method, she had sucked in as much breath as she could before beginning to hiss insults at him, calling him every filthy name, disgusting word, and insult she could call to mind- and with Faith's impressive resume of knowledge, she had quite a lot to choose from. She had ended her tirade with a graphic description of an action allegedly occurring between Spike and his mother, and that had been what finally set him off for good.

What Spike had done before to hurt her was nothing compared to the agony he dealt her now. Where he had taken his time before, dragging out his causing of wounds, he now drove his fist repeatedly into her ribs, stomach, chest, and face, deliberately cracking bones until she couldn't breathe, until she spat up blood and could barely hold up her head. And then he bit, and everything blurred and spun, a quick and puzzling image of Cordelia's face coming to her mind before Faith felt beyond herself and her body, beyond the world at large, as though she had already slipped past it.

It was then that she noticed Earl standing just beside her, not touching her, looking at her with sorrow standing in his eyes. She turned her head slightly, but Spike was no longer there, and her pain seemed dull now, barely recognizable as her own. It took several moments of dragging thought to realize that whether or not this was happening, it took place inside her mind, or on another place of existence, perhaps Earl's own- not hers, not Spike's, and she was no longer in Sunnydale at all.

"Hey there, girl," Earl said softly, giving her a small smile, and Faith struggled to lift her head, regarding him through blurred vision and speaking through cracked lips, voice rasping.

"Earl…come to take me away? Never thought…I'd make it…to heaven…"

Earl's lips curved into a small smile, but his eyes remained sorrowful and serious as he shook his head.

"No, child, not now…you ain't going anywhere, not yet. And you're not gonna die, not today. Not any time soon, that I promise you."

If this was meant to be reassuring, it wasn't the sort of reassurance Faith had sought…for at this point, she wanted to die. She wanted the pain, the memories, everything she was enduring to stop. And if that meant dying…well, it was an unfortunate side effect, but she was willing to take it.

"Please," she nearly whispered, and even in this removed state and place that felt so vague and distant to her she could not quite accept it as definite reality, she could feel how the simple act of speaking burned her throat and strained her voice. "Just…take me. Make it stop."

But even through blurred vision Faith could see that Earl was shaking his head, and as he stepped closer, his arm nearly brushing her side, she drew in a shuddery breath, trying to see him more clearly.

"I won't do that, child," he told her softly. "It's not your time. You haven't done the things you're supposed to do. You're just gonna have to keep hanging on until it's through. I'm sorry…believe me, honey, I don't like watching this anymore than you like to feel it."

"Then stop it…take me away…make him stop," she ground out, her limbs twitching as she attempted again to struggle against her chains, only succeeding in bringing dull pain throughout her body. "Help…me."

"I can't do that either, child," Earl told her sadly, again shaking his head. "I know you don't understand, but that ain't the way God works…and that ain't the way his angels work either. I know it sounds like a cop out…but everything really does happen for a reason. And this…it really is for your good. And you're gonna get through it. I promise you that too. You'll get through this, and you'll be even better for it."

All Faith could get from this was that Earl, an angel of the supposedly all-powerful God, whose powers she had repeatedly witnessed, being on the receiving end of them, was not helping her now, and anger, surprising in its strength, flared up inside her.

"You and your God…you could do anything you want to…you…you say you love me…love everyone…you're, you're both…sadistic bastards…not to help me…to…to stand there, and watch…you're both…you're both assholes."

Earl showed no anger at her stuttered insult, and in fact sighed, nodding slowly.

"Sometimes I feel like you're right about that, Faith…and I don't blame you if you don't trust me. But I promise you. You will get through this. And it will benefit you…in a way, child, it's gonna heal you." He smiled slightly, then reached to cup Faith's cheek, his palm so soothing and cool in feel that Faith closed her eyes, leaning into it in spite of herself.

"Besides, help is coming…I'm not about to steal their thunder when they're working hard to earn it."

And then Earl was fading out of sight, and the rest of their surroundings seemed to be fading alone with him. When she opened her eyes, she could feel everything much more vividly than she had, and Spike was in front of her again, his face twisted in a leer of satisfaction.

"Little tired, are you? You know, for a Slayer you have a low stamina. If it were our Buffy here, I would bet-"

The door opened then, and as Spike turned, irritated at this interruption, Faith lifted her eyes too, a ridiculous part of her hoping that it was Earl making an entrance, changing his mind about helping her after all. It was a silly thought. After all, when had Earl ever gone back on his word, of used a door rather than simply appearing for that matter?

Of course it wasn't Earl who stepped through the door; instead, it was a man who appeared to be about his age, though much neater in his appearance. He had a receding hairline, a very politician-style suit and tie, and when he first looked between Spike and Faith, a cheesy grin, that made it clear to Faith, though she had only heard descriptions of him rather than seen him in person, that this must be the Mayor, Richard Wilkins III.

His hands were clasped firmly onto the shoulders of a pale, clearly shaken, though defiant-jawed Willow, who Faith was more horrified than she would have thought to realize had not managed to escape after all. However, Willow looked uninjured, and in fact was staring at Faith, still dangling from her chains, bloody, broken, and bruised, as well as barely conscious, with her green eyes bulging in stunned horror, her mouth falling open. In fact, her eyes looked strangely wet, as if maybe she were holding back the urge to cry…could that be possible, that Willow Rosenberg would ever cry over her? God, she must look worse than she felt.

Normally Faith would give her a smile and thumbs up, or make a sarcastic comment, just to assure her that she wasn't broken, that she was okay, as much to convince herself as anyone else. But the Mayor acted before she could summon the energy to do so. Though he was still keeping a firm grasp on Willow, his brief, wide smile immediately faltered as his eyes scanned over Faith's form, and he gasped, his eyes widening in such a manner that Faith's heart quickened, hopeful. Was it possible that he hadn't known what Spike was doing- was it possible that he hadn't intended for her to be hurt, and would stop him from doing more, maybe even let her down from those damn chains?

"William, I am astonished at this conduct!" the Mayor cried, and it took several moments of following his gaze for her to realize he was addressing Spike. So much for a macho name…

"This is terrible to treat a young lady in such a way!"

"You said I had free reign in her dealings, what are you bloody going on about?" Spike shot back, turning to face him, and the Mayor, averting his gaze from Faith and even going so far as to shield his eyes from viewing her, shook his head emphatically.

"I CERTAINLY did not mean you could leave her in a state of undress!" He gestured without looking in the general direction of her torso, where her cut shirt left her bra and breasts plain for anyone to see. "Really, William, no gentleman tortures a lady in such an ungentlemanly manner. Cover Miss Lehane at once!"

As Faith blinked, her eyes moving to watch the Mayor's squeamish behavior with a complete lack of comprehension, for it seemed that it was merely her semi-nudity, and not her blatant torture, that he objected to- Willow twisted her head back to gawk at him too, still not speaking aloud, perhaps too speechless with fear or horror to do so, perhaps not wishing to say the wrong thing and end up in Faith's position. She too seemed to have no desire to look at Faith, her features taut with misery every time her gaze flitted back to her, and she was unable to hold Faith's gaze for long without biting down on her lip and tearing her eyes away.

Meanwhile, the Mayor, who was still rather dramatically keeping his head turned away, let his eyes come to rest on Spike's long trench coat. Gesturing towards it, he instructed, "There, William, cover her with your coat. I'm sure she must be feeling a little chilly as it is, between the loss of her shirt and the loss of several pints of blood!" he chuckled, sending a wide grin in Spike's direction, but there was an undertone to his words and an intensity to his eyes that made it seem his words were not a request.

And with Spike, this did not sit well. His eyes widening, eyebrows shooting upward, mouth opening, he turned towards the Mayor almost aggressively, his voice rising as he protested this command.

"Give her my bloody jacket? Give HER my bloody jacket, you've got to be sodding kidding me!"

"Really William, there's no call for such language," the Mayor admonished, but his voice hardened after his initial light tone, his expression no longer showing any trace of jolliness. "You might want to recall that yours is a position many a person, living or undead, would covet, and you could quite easily be replaced…and I'm sure you realize, William, the consequences that go along with such termination." He paused, giving this implication of Spike's death a moment to impact, then continued, "Give the young lady your coat, William. Now."

"I got that coat off the back of a Slayer in the 70's!" Spike protested, jaw clinched, not willing to obey, and the Mayor stepped forward, dragging a wide-eyed Willow with him, with such inherent menace in the gesture that Spike's mouth closed, his expression beginning to show unease as well as resentment, and from where she was still dangling from the ceiling, eyes unfocused, Faith shivered.

"And now you're putting it on the back of this Slayer," the Mayor informed him with no room in his tone to doubt that he expected obedience. "Unchain her and put that jacket on her, William. Now."

Another few seconds passed before Spike, growling under his breath, turned jerkily around to face her, removing his jacket with hands that actually shook, and throwing it to the ground. For a moment he locked at the jacket on the ground in the way one might look at a recently killed puppy before he turned back to Faith, beginning to loosen her chains with rough, angry gestures that jolted her abused form even more painfully. Nevertheless, the Mayor smiled, seemingly satisfied, as he addressed Faith then, still deliberately keeping his head turned away in deference to her exposed chest as he spoke.

"There now, that will be better, won't it? Really, William, there are plenty of ways to torture a young woman without being so darn inappropriate!" he chuckled, shaking his head, before speaking to Faith alone as Spike worked on her tightly bound chains with no effort whatsoever to be gentle. "How are you doing, young lady- are you hanging in up there? Haha, do you like my pun? I just love wordplay!" the Mayor chuckled again, beaming at his own self.

When Faith gave no reply, simply staring in his general direction more in shock at his corniness than anything else, the Mayor chuckled again as Spike undid the last of the chains, letting her fall to the floor with a sharp cry as broken bones took the impact. As Willow too gasped, and Spike began to force her arms into the sleeves of the jacket from where she remained crumpled on the floor, the Mayor continued.

"I see you're still conscious- you must be quite a girl!" he smiled, before nodding down towards Willow to include her as well. "Well, young lady, you and your meddling little friend here will no doubt be pleased to know that I have received a very interesting phone call just a few minutes ago. It seems that your friends are anxious to have you girls back, and have therefore proposed a trade that I am happy to accept. You two will be safe and snug at home, drinking hot cocoa and in your pajamas in no time, if all goes as expected- if you can eat, that is! What do you think about that?"

Willow's face reflected wary hope as she looked between the Mayor and Faith, almost if not quite smiling; Spike, of course, though he said nothing, was scowling so darkly his views were clear. But Faith could hardly focus or comprehend the meaning of his words. She was finally succumbing to the anguish she had endured and was still enduring, her thoughts growing faint and vague as consciousness began to slip away, and the last thing she managed to latch onto and respond to before passing out was the Mayor's mention of trading her and Willow.

"Trade me…what the hell am I…a baseball card?"

For the next twenty minutes, Faith drifted in and out of unconsciousness, rarely more than vaguely aware of what was going on around her. She felt herself being carried at one point and dimly assumed, thinking back later, that it must have been by Spike, because she was allowed to dangle limply in the arms and legs, despite the further stress to her limbs, and the jarring strides he took. Later she came to enough to hear several voices she recognized. The Mayor and Spike, yes, but also Buffy, Angel, even Wesley and Giles… though she could not force her eyes to open, she was alert enough then to pay attention and realize the implications of the box of Garvok, and she struggled to make her protests heard and understood. If that was what they were doing, trading her for the box, letting the Mayor have it back…well, they couldn't. They couldn't let him have that, not when it could destroy the world…not for her.

"No," she murmured, "no, don't- I'll…stay. Don't…you're not…"

But she was too weak to keep her eyes open, much less to stand, and her protests were interpreted not as protests at all but rather half delirious expressions of pain or fear. She was answered in soft, reassuring tones that were not what she wanted, and when a brief skirmish broke out around her, she was already unconscious again.

Faith didn't regain any degree of awareness again until they were outside the Mayor's building, the trade completed, but it took her several disoriented moments to realize that a gentler pair of arms was holding her now, and she couldn't hear the Mayor or Spike near. And when she half opened her eyes, slowly making out the anxious faces of Buffy, Angel, Willow, Giles, and Wesley near her, she didn't have to say anything at all, because they were all glad to speak first.

"She opened her eyes!"

"I told you, I can clearly feel that her pulse is strong…Faith, can you hear? How do you feel?"

"Faith?" spoke Buffy's voice, more distinguishable than the rest, and she saw the other girl's face, slightly hazy, her features taut with empathy, and then what she assumed were Buffy's fingers were gently running through her hair. "We made the trade…you're, you're safe now. You and Willow. I staked Spike…after what he did…I should have ended him long ago, I'm so sorry, Faith. You'll be okay. We'll get you to the van now-"

"Box," Faith rasped, and as she moved her eyes to the side, she was surprised to see that it was Wesley, not the stronger Buffy or Angel, who was holding her. Maybe because Buffy and Angel had needed to be prepared, should a fight occur. "The box…it…"

"It was traded in exchange for you and Willow," Giles spoke quietly, and when Faith looked towards him, she saw the exhausted worry etched in the lines of his brow. "Do not worry, Faith, we will find another way."

"I'm so sorry we left at first," Buffy was saying in a rush, though Faith was not following her, or even really listening. "You said you had it under control, and we had the box- we thought you'd be right behind us, and we thought Willow was right behind us, and we were on the ground with the box loading it in the van before we realized, and then we had to make a plan, and then the Council issue-"

"Buffy," Giles said gently, resting his hand on her shoulder, "let's just get her to the van. She can hear everything in good time, when she's more rested."

But Faith was looking up at Wesley, who was cradling her against himself; someone had lay her broken arm against her chest, and she still felt almost entirely numb and removed from the full reality of the moment as she smiled faintly up into his tense features.

"Big man Watcher…watching my back…" she mumbled, her voice slurred, and Wesley grimaced, his words strained, if soft, when he answered her.

"Actually, Faith…I am no longer a Watcher at all…you see, as we made plans to retrieve the box, I, quite foolishly, called the Watcher's Council to inform them that the Ascension would soon be under our control, and that we would retrieve the box and destroy it. I…I realize now that I should have shared nothing, but I supposed the salvation or possible doom of the world was within their interest…and that possibly they would possess the knowledge of how to destroy the box. They called today to check on our progress, just as we were making the plan to trade the box for you and Willow…and when I informed them of our plan…well, you see, Faith, they wished for us to leave you and Willow there to be further hurt or killed. They spoke of the salvation of all versus two…and when I did not agree, they relieved me of my duties."

He gave a small, tight smile, but there was sadness, embarrassment, and anger standing prominently in his gaze. "So I suppose you have no Watcher, now. But yes, I will still certainly attempt to watch your back regardless."

"They would have just left you die, Faith, you and Willow both!" Buffy burst out with, and though Faith could not see her face, she could hear the rage in her tone, the heated indignation. "They were going on about there already being one Slayer and not needing two, and how another Slayer would be called if you died, and what were two little girls compared to…if I ever end up in England, I swear, I will hunt down every single one of those Watchers and-"

"Buffy," Giles cut her off again, and he included Wesley in his glance as well, for the man had stopped walking at all when he started to speak to Faith. "I'm sure she cannot retain what anyone says to her, at least not as much as you two are attempting to share. She needs medical attention as soon as possible, so shall we resume moving towards the van so we can bring her home immediately?"

It was true that Faith was having a hard time concentrating enough to interpret what anyone said to her, but she did latch on to part of what Giles was saying. Home…he was going to take her home. But where was that? Not Cordy's house, not anymore…unless she had told them about her new apartment with Faith?

Cordelia…thinking of Cordelia, Faith struggled to keep her eyes open, to fight her way back to full alertness as a sharp, almost desperate desire to see her, speak to her, pressed tightly against her chest. She tried to form the words to ask where Cordelia was, but she didn't need to say anything at all, as it turned out, for they had finally reached Oz's van, where he sat in the driver's seat, Xander in the passenger's, both craning their necks to get a glimpse of Faith and Willow as they approached. And as Willow ran for the driver's side to Oz, who was already opening the door, and climbed up onto his lap, burying her face in his neck as his arms went around her, the back door was sliding open as well, and a slightly disheveled Cordelia was squatting frozen in its opening, all but the very back seat of the van removed from the space behind her, as her expression flitted first to shock, then to horror, then a fierce rage as she took in Faith's appearance.

"Oh my god!" she almost screamed, not moving either towards Faith nor to get out of the way and allow Wesley to settle her inside the van. "Oh my god, LOOK at her, oh my GOD! What did they DO to her- what the FUCK happened, what did they DO to her?"

Had Faith been able to stop and think about it, she would have realized that this was the first time she had ever heard Cordelia utter the big bad F word, but as it was, everyone else got so busy talking that it was likely no one else would have heard her if she had tried to speak, let alone listened.

"Cordelia- we got her as fast as we possibly could, you know that-" Wesley began, as Giles tried to instruct rather than reason with her.

"Cordelia, please move aside so we can get her in the van. We need to hurry, just in case-"

"She's going to be okay," came Buffy's voice, though there was anxiety coloring the determination in her tone. "She's a Slayer, she'll be fine. End of the week, max, it will be like nothing happened." But despite her words, Buffy couldn't seem to fully contain herself from adding, "It was Spike, SPIKE did this."

"SPIKE?" Xander exclaimed, and there was more venom in his tone than Faith had ever heard from him as he continued. "You should have staked him the second you saw him, Buffy, years ago, HE did this?"

"Oh, don't worry, he's dust and ashes," Buffy assured him, and Faith could have sworn that she heard Angel mutter, "Finally," behind her.

"She looks pretty bad," observed Oz from the driver's seat, looking back at the others with Willow still wrapped in his arms, and as Giles tried again to prod Cordelia to move aside, Xander piped up with worry, "Yeah, she does…is she going to be okay? She's…she won't…die, or anything…right?"

"Of course she won't, you idiot, she's a damn Slayer, she's FAITH!" Cordelia snapped, sending a glare that immediately cut off any forthcoming comments from Xander before she finally moved aside, scrambling back to sit on the edge of the one seat remaining in the back of the van. "What the hell are you waiting for, get in here!"

As Buffy hurried to help Wesley step into the van without hurting or jostling Faith more than necessary, Willow started to explain, her voice tight and shaking badly, sounding near tears.

"It, after I fell through the skylight, and I guess Buffy and Angel didn't know, there was still a vampire and she told me to run, get out, but I couldn't find an exit and I heard someone coming, and I hid…and then the Mayor found me, and took me to her, and she…she was all chained up, and she looked like this…I guess he, I mean Spike, was beating her, and, and cutting her…and…burning her, and-"

"Shut up, Willow!" Cordelia nearly screeched, and as the van suddenly went still, Faith vaguely heard something that sounded almost like a swallowed sob before Cordelia took in a slow breath, her voice resuming its hardness.

"Lay her down on the seat, she can put her head in my lap and curl her legs. They're not broken, are they? Then set her down and let's get the hell out of here."

The others did as she said in relative quiet, with Wesley and Buffy carefully arranging Faith on the seat, and though this hurt her, Faith made no sound, just closing her eyes. She could hear the rest piling in, arranging themselves to sit on the van's floor, with Willow remaining in Oz's lap, though he was driving. As Oz started the van, Faith felt Cordelia's fingers on her hair, light, yet she could almost feel her touch more vividly than the pain.

"You have to learn to take a hit or two, Miss Breakable," she told Faith softly, attempting to keep her voice light, but Faith heard its slight shaking. "This is just sorry."

"Just need a little beauty sleep…maybe a lot…if I'm bad off as it sounds," Faith muttered, and Cordelia laughed, her voice relieved when she answered.

"Yeah, that and a damn good plastic surgeon. Stop trying to talk, and don't you dare move. Sleep."

And as Cordelia continued to gently stroke her hair, Faith felt herself begin to slip back into a shadowy realm somewhere between sleep and unconsciousness…and though she heard Willow's voice when the girl suddenly exclaimed that oh yeah, she had managed to steal some pages about the Ascension from some book, she couldn't then realize what exactly that meant.


	40. 40

"This is what it is to be held

How it feels

When the sacred is torn from your life

And you survive

This is what it is to be loved, and to know

That the promise was when everything failed

We'd be held"

"Held, Natalie Grant

"Hey, Cor, can you get me a drink?" Faith called out, anticipating the answer before Cordelia said a word, and the other girl did not fail to disappoint her expectations with her reply.

"Get your own, Miss I'm Gonna Milk My Recent Injuries With Everything I've Got," Cordelia rolled her eyes before sitting on their couch, leaning back with a sigh as she briefly tilted her head back. "I've been on my feet all day at work, while I bet you've been channel surfing the past few hours."

"Such the bedside manner, Queen C," Faith smirked, but she got to her feet and headed towards the kitchen area, pouring a soda for herself and another for Cordelia as Cordelia called out in the direction of her turned back from the couch, snorting.

"It wasn't your legs that got hurt, and anyway, you were talking about slaying earlier today. If you're up for slaying, you can fetch your own drinks. Use the guilt trips on Buffy, they still work on her."

"I'll keep that in mind," Faith said dryly as she returned to the living room area, handing Cordelia her glass and sitting beside her. Cordelia smiled her thanks and took a sip as Faith continued, taking a long gulp of her own.

"Wasn't kidding about the slaying. I'm ready. I'm healed up and good to go…ready to do some ass kicking after all this ass sitting."

And though Faith meant every word she spoke, and her voice was casual, there must have been something in her tone that Cordelia heard which she herself hadn't, a certain look in her eyes, or maybe Cordelia had noticed the quick involuntary glance she had cast down to the scars on her wrists, seemingly permanent marks of Spike's bites. Whatever the case, her eyes narrowed, and she turned more fully towards Faith, scrutinizing her.

"Yeah, whatever," she said with some skepticism, her eyes attempting to catch and hold Faith's for longer than Faith was comfortable with. "No bullshit, Faith, okay? How are you, for real?"

Inwardly Faith squirmed, and she was careful to avert her eyes…because something about the way Cordelia was looking at her told her that the other girl wasn't about to back off until she felt she had heard the truth. And the truth about how Faith was doing….well, that was something she didn't even want her own self to know.

It had been a week, almost, since she had been rescued from the City Hall, and gradually everything had begun to return to near normal. For the first day after she had been rescued, Faith had remained unconscious, which turned out to have been a good thing, since Giles and Wesley had used the time she was out cold to treat, bandage, set, and splint her injuries, which would have been very painful had she been alert. She was told later she had spent time in the hospital as well, though she could not remember her time there more than vaguely. By the second day Faith was conscious, though in pain, and by the third day was discharged from the hospital at her insistence, against all advice from all staff there, though she remained in bed or on Giles's couch all day, as she and Cordelia were staying with Giles until she recovered. Apparently Cordelia had managed to do some fast talking to explain why they needed to stay with Giles and that he had no need to call her parents. By the fourth day, Faith was walking around, and yesterday she had gone to her apartment with Cordelia, entirely healed, other than the scars on her wrists and remaining aching in recently healed bones, especially her arm. You had to love the speed of Slayer healing- even Cordelia had remarked that it took her longer to recover from a cold than it did for Buffy and Faith to heal from life-threatening wounds.

Now that she and Cordelia were back in their own place again, Faith doubly appreciated the ability to have her own space. At Giles's she had constantly had Giles and even Cordelia checking on her, wanting to tend to injuries and make sure she was okay, and all the others were constantly popping in and hovering over her too. Even Willow and Oz had come over daily, and if Faith had thought that Willow was softened towards her as she helped her prepare to take her GED, that was nothing compared to the way her combined guilt, pity, and newfound respect for Faith's sustained injuries, refusal to give in and give up the others in the face of torture, and her attempt to protect Willow by having her flee had brought. And though Faith was glad to have company, and definitely was never bored- they even had their latest Scooby meetings, regarding the information about the Ascension from the book Willow had managed to rip pages out of- it was all a little too much focus on her, and she had started to feel restless and smothered.

On one hand, it amazed her to have further evidence that they cared, deeply enough not only to save her even if this could doom the world- that she could shrug off, because Willow had needed their help too. But their reaction to her condition, going beyond just disgust or pity to outrage and horror, their eagerness to help after, that was what stunned her. She could see in their faces and gestures, hear in their voices how relieved they were that she was still with them….and to Faith, this was new and startling.

Still, she was glad to be back at their apartment, with no one wanting to check her splints and bandages or test her flexibility and reflexes, no one forcing supposedly healing tea that tasted like tree bark down her throat or wanting to manipulate her ribs. It was true that this meant she was also missing out on the meals Mrs. Summers had been having Buffy take over, but Faith knew she'd be going over there soon, or else the woman would have Buffy carry her there herself just to quell her anxiety. It had been nice to be back with just her and Cordelia, with Cordelia actually giving her space and not asking her a million questions and helping her just when she thought Faith needed it- and not, when she thought she didn't. But now here Cordelia was, starting to ask questions too, and that, Faith had been dreading.

"I'm fine," Faith said casually, shrugging, though she was careful not to meet Cordelia's eyes for too long, knowing the other girl would see straight through her if she did. She also at this point knew she should say fine rather than five by five, because that phrase was a dead giveaway of lying to Cordy, no matter how automatically Faith said it.

But despite her editing of words, it wasn't enough for Cordelia, because the girl sighed impatiently, briefly rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, physically. Super Slayer healing and all that jazz. But you don't get beaten to a pile of broken bones and gushing blood without it getting to you SOMEWHAT."

Again Faith shrugged, not even attempting to think for a longer space of time about what Cordelia had said, to ask herself if there was any truth to it, as she stretched her arms in front of her.

"I'm a Slayer," she answered. "We're made to stand a little banging up now and then."

"A little banging up?" Cordelia repeated incredulously, eyebrows raising high. "Try broken nose, six different breaks or fractures in one arm, a dislocated shoulder, five broken ribs, scarred wrists, stomach, chest, and arms blood loss, and a concussion!"

At this rather extensive listing of her injuries, a list Faith couldn't deny or minimize, she couldn't come up with a reply. Shrugging again, she tried to find something she could say to detract from it further, but Cordelia wasn't finished yet.

Turning her entire body to face her, her expression intense, serious, knee touching Faith's lightly, Cordelia said with her voice dropping, "You scared the hell out of me, you know. Them carrying you out of there all bloody and crushed and pathetic…you looked like someone could half kill you by flicking a thumb at you. I mean…I've seen Buffy pretty sick or hurt, and Xander's always half killing himself, we've seriously discussed making Giles wear a hard hat because he gets knocked out so much, and Willow was in a coma one time…hell, even I got skewered by that stupid rebar. But you…I mean…I guess I never saw you like that before, with….well, it was horrible," she finished quietly, her eyes briefly averting as she took in a slow breath, then held her gaze once more. "It was horrible, Faith."

At this honest statement, and the quiet but clear feelings she could hear in Cordelia's voice, see in her gaze, Faith's stomach clinched, and she shifted her position on the couch, inching away from Cordelia unconsciously and looking away again as she struggled to come up with an answer that would effectively end the conversation; again, no such answer came to mind.

"Well, I'm okay now," she said finally, and Cordelia exhaled more loudly now, her voice sharp.

"Oh come off it, Faith, you are not."

"Yes I am," Faith retorted, her own voice rising, her chin lifting as she met Cordelia's eyes defiantly, almost daring her to challenge her…a challenge Cordelia did not back down from.

"That's bullshit, Faith," she wasted no time in informing her, eyes narrowing. "You might fool everyone else with that, but don't even try it on me. You can laugh and joke and smile and look away making your smartass comments all you want, but that doesn't mean you can make me forget what your eyes looked like the whole time. And there's something WRONG with the look in your eyes…something…I don't know, I'm no shrink, but it's like they're…bruised, or something, or…"

She paused, seeming to be searching for the right word, and then when she found it, to hesitate to use it. But finally she spoke up quietly. "Grieving. Your eyes look like they're grieving."

At this choice of words, Faith's heart beat faster, and she felt her skin begin to heat. She started to shake her head vehemently, denying this, even as a sudden and intense near panic came over her that she could not understand.

"I am NOT grie-" she started to protest, but found she could not say the word, could not even complete the full sentence in her mind without her throat closing over and her breathing beginning to come so quickly and unevenly she was lightheaded, out of breath.

She couldn't say it…she couldn't even think that, and maybe that was because she knew it was untrue…maybe she knew that to say she was not grieving would not only be a lie, but also a betrayal.

"Run, Faith…please, go…please, Faith….save yourself…go…"

"Come on, Faith," Cordelia continued, and she was watching Faith intently, not failing to notice the tension of her muscles, the rigidness of her expression, the darkening of her eyes as her Watcher's final words ran through her mind. "You've heard me blabbing about my selfish parents and what they did to me with Xander and Consuela, you heard me going on after they left me for more Mexican pastures, you even saw me bawling over it, and do you think that would happen with just anyone? The answer you're searching for is no," Cordelia informed her, just in case Faith couldn't work out the answer on her own. "But you…you never talk about anything, hardly, you realize that? You listen…and you don't talk. You deflect, you avoid, you get pissed, or you run…but you don't talk. Well this time, you're not getting away with it…right here, right now, today, you're gonna talk to me. Because like it or not, I think you need to."

It took several moments for Faith to force words past the blockage in her throat, to raise her voice to a level that could be understood, and even so she hated the lack of strength to her tone.

"I don't' need to talk, Cordelia."

"Faith…half the time when I say something lately, you don't even hear me," she pressed, and Faith was suddenly aware of Cordelia's knee against hers, the all too close proximity of her presence. "You didn't even look at me, you looked past me. It's like…I don't know, like you're looking for an escape, or looking for someone…like you think something will attack you." She paused, then asked quietly, "Is that it? Do you feel like you've got to be on guard or something…you know, after Spike?"

But that wasn't it at all. Yes, Faith was looking for someone, always on alert in case he showed up…but it wasn't Spike, or the Mayor, or any of his henchmen. She was looking for Earl, and the damn so-called angel never was there.

It had been a week since the showdown at City Hall, and Earl had not showed up once, not ONCE, at least not when Faith was awake to see it. After he had stood there and did nothing, absolutely nothing while she was practically dying, after he had told her how much he hated it, and didn't like to see her suffer…all of that talking, and he hadn't come to see her since, not even for five minutes, not even one time.

Okay, so maybe he was some bigshot all-knowing angel, maybe he knew she was healing and okay and everything because he could look from heaven and see, or something. Maybe he knew that, but Faith didn't care. He had stood there and done nothing, and he had gone on about how she'd be okay and better and it was for her own good, and he hadn't even come by to talk to her after, he hadn't even come by to explain?

If he cared so damn much, then where was he? Where was all this good supposedly coming out of breaking herself into pieces, literally? Had he ever been there at all- had she hallucinated the entire thing because she wanted him to be there so badly? And if she had, then where was he for real while all that was going on? Had she made up Earl in the first place? And if not…then where the fuck WAS HE?

If Earl was real, and he was ignoring her, after all that had happened, when she was actively looking and calling for him, then Faith hated him, and she hated his God too.

Trying to focus on what Cordelia had just leveled at her, Faith thought back to try to remember what she had said, finally managing to latch onto one accusation.

"I don't think I'm about to get attacked," she snapped, lifting her chin, her voice carrying aggression now. "Maybe I just want to get away from everyone constantly on my back lately, ever think about that?"

"We wouldn't dare get on your back, it might rebreak the five ribs that were practically sticking out of your skin," Cordelia retorted, before taking in a slow breath, gathering her flaring temper before meeting Faith's eyes again deliberately, speaking more calmly.

"Faith, I know you've been having nightmares. When we were at Giles's, I could hear you…and I heard you again last night. When I go in to check on you, you don't wake up. You say no, and that you're sorry…and something about someone named Diana."

Cordelia paused, eyes locked on Faith's, watching the other girl freeze, how the grief she had observed in Faith's eyes grew so dark and intense that Faith seemed unable to tear her gaze away. Slowly she reached out, laying a hand on Faith's arm, as she finished softly.

"Who was Diana, Faith…what happened?"

It took extreme effort for Faith to resume semi normal breathing, to finally tear her eyes from Cordelia's as she exhaled, and she was somehow sure that the other girl had read everything in her gaze, that Cordelia too could see Diana's broken body, the fading life in her eyes, hear the weakness of her voice as she spoke her last words. She was sure that Cordelia could see the shock that Faith had felt, the pain and rage and fear all tumbling through her at once at her loss, and she had to remind herself of the present moment, that Cordelia had not been there…Cordelia could not know.

She considered saying nothing…she considered cursing Cordelia out, storming from their apartment or simply going to her room and slamming the door, locking it behind her. But she knew none of it would work. Cordelia would follow, Cordelia would find a way to find out, if she really wanted to. she could look it up, call Giles and ask…she wouldn't put it past Cordelia to contact the Watcher's Council and ask for files, reaming them out for firing Wesley while she was at it.

No, if Cordelia was going to find out, it was best if Faith had her told on her own terms…because somehow it seemed that if she controlled how the facts were told, rather than hearing them spoken aloud to her by another, maybe it wouldn't be quite as horrible to endure.

But why the hell couldn't Cordelia leave well enough alone?

Taking in another deep breath, Faith pulled her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them in an unconsciously self-comforting fashion before she finally answered Cordelia's question, little expression to her carefully guarded voice as she spoke.

"She was my Watcher. The one from Boston."

Cordelia nodded slightly, and though Faith was looking past her shoulder rather than right at her, she could feel her eyes on her, assessing her.

"The one who died?" she asked, and Faith snorted, her voice rough now as she shook her head.

"What do you think? I've had two Watchers die now, if you count that bitch Post woman, and two get fired. I'm a fucking jinx."

But despite her tone, there was a slight shaking to her voice in the last sentence, and she suspected that Cordelia was not fooled. Taking in another breath, trying to slow the beating of her heart, Faith almost missed Cordelia's next question.

"I'm sorry, Faith…that really sucks." She was quiet for a few more moments, the sincerity of her tone lingering in between, almost painful, before she asked gently, "Were you close to her?"

Faith nodded tightly, then gritted her teeth when a loud, shuddery exhalation escaped her without her permission, a breath holding the threat of a sob. She clinched her teeth until her jaw ached, fighting down the rising lump in her throat, fingers digging into her arms before she felt she could reply.

"Yeah…I mean…she, she was my guardian. She was…really good to me. She…"here it was hard to go on, to force the words to come, and they emerged in a near whisper. "She…I think she thought of me…like a daughter."

She lowered her head, and when Cordelia lay a hand on her arm again, she almost welcomed its pressure to keep her grounded in the present reality.

"Buffy said you saw her die," Cordelia said slowly, and when Faith nodded, not yet trusting herself to speak, she shifted herself so she was facing Faith again, sitting cross-legged, knee against Faith's shin as she continued to hold her arm. "Was it really bad?"

Faith nodded again, and now closed her eyes, actively laboring not to remember, not to see. She concentrated on Cordelia's touch on her arm, Cordelia's eyes on her, and gradually the words came without her planning.

"Spike…what he did with me, it was like that. With her. Just like that…it was…that was what happened."

At first Cordelia frowned faintly, not seeming to understand, but as the realization of what Faith was implying, of what she had watched Diana suffer before her death, sank in, Cordelia's eyes darkened, and she tightened her grip on Faith's arm, seeming to want to somehow help hold them both together by doing so.

"Damn…that's terrible," she said quietly, but Faith was not actively listening.

She didn't even heard her words, was not looking into her eyes. as reluctant as she had been to speak initially, to dwell in even passing on anything that reminded her of that terrible day, the worst of Faith's life in a lifetime with many devastating days to choose from, now that the words had been spoken, now that the barest surface of the facts had been shared, she couldn't stop their flow through her mind, couldn't slow the vivid visualizations flashing into her mental view. And without really intending to do so, hardly aware of what she was saying or even that she was speaking, Faith continued to relay the events of that fateful night, describing what she saw more intensely than her actual surroundings in a voice that remained tight and strained, her nails digging more and more harshly into her flesh.

"They, they kidnapped her, Diana…I was gone, I was slaying, and they, they had someone, a girl, they used her as bait to draw Diana out. And she must have come out, and they got her…they left me a note, when I got back, saying where she was, and she was in this warehouse. I got it…and I went to her…I drove her car, and I got there, and I knew they had her. I knew they'd hurt her, so I went as fast as I could, but it…I wasn't fast enough. I wasn't…"

Faith paused, sucking in a long, shuddery breath, feeling it rattle through her as she shivered. She didn't want to talk about this, she didn't even want to think about it…but the words came beyond her permission and control. As Cordelia covered both her hands with her own silently, prying them away from cutting into her arms with their nails as she held them, Faith's eyes remained open, the pupils large, as she continued to look past the other girl.

"There were three or four vampires with her, and, and Kakistos… they had her…they had her chained. Like me. she was…she was naked…I never, I didn't see her like that, she was British, and…proper…and…they made her like that. They hurt her…like me. they…they broke her arm…and her ribs…and hit her eye, and jaw, and…they…they bit her…all over. She…she looked at me, she told me to run…and I didn't, I wouldn't…I tried to fight. I tried to save her. But they got me…they held me back, and I couldn't…I had to watch…they bit her…they…they k-killed her…and I watched."

Here Faith was forced again to stop, because she was beginning to breathe so fast and shallowly she was on the verge of hyperventilating. She was shaking so badly it sent a dull ache up her spine, and she squeezed Cordelia's hands so tightly the girl gasped, then pulled her hands away, adjusting her hold so she closed her fingers around the whole of Faith's hands rather than allowing her to intertwine fingers. Cordelia was saying something to her softly, cupping Faith's hands, but Faith could not interpret the meaning of her words.

Gradually the continued pressure of Cordelia's hands and the soothing sound, if not meaning, of her words were able to ground Faith enough to slow her breathing and lessen her shaking, to bring her a little more fully into the present and out of the past, her intense flashbacks fading into brief and vague flickers of thought and images in her mind. When she was able to see Cordelia before her again, her brow creased with concern that for almost anyone else would have been a rare and startling expression to observe in her, Faith finally met her eyes, speaking in a voice that was hoarse, still haunted, but more grounded now.

"They did that to her…to get to me. They didn't' care about her. Just me. if I had just…" she swallowed, lowering her head, then brought it up deliberately to look Cordelia in the eye. "I didn't leave her…I wouldn't have done that. But I didn't save her. I didn't save her…and that's the worst thing I've ever done."

She stopped then, finally finished, and drew in a breath, let it out slowly, realizing how tautly she was holding her muscles, how she ached all over from the tension throughout her form. For her, this was more than enough talking, much more than she'd ever wanted or intended to say, and she felt no better for it. All she wanted was to do something mindless enough to shove it all back down where it belonged, out of range of her thoughts and feelings. Watching TV, going out to slay, going for a run or to train or even to sleep…any and all sounded not just desirable, but essential, and she started to pull away.

But Cordelia held her fast, both with her hands and her words, and she wouldn't release her so easily. "Faith…that might be the worst thing that's ever happened to you…but it's not the worst thing you've done. Because it wasn't your fault."

As Faith blinked, staring at her without comprehension, Cordelia continued, releasing Faith's hands so she could gesture. "It wasn't a fair fight, Faith. There was nothing you could have done. It wasn't your mistake, it was just a…a really, really bad situation beyond your control. Seriously, think about it. Four or five vampires against a 16-year-old who had been called as a Slayer what, a month before? What could you have done, really? It sucked, but it was beyond your control, just like they wanted it."

Faith had never thought about Diana's death in such a way before. She had viewed it as her biggest failure, her worst mistake, the epitome of how she had privately thought of herself. Always fucking up when it counted the most, not good or smart or fast enough, jinxing everyone she cared about, driving away everyone she loved…for Cordelia to say that this wasn't true, that Diana's death did not fall on her own shoulders, seemed so wrong to her that she couldn't accept it.

She shook her head emphatically. "No. It wasn't. I should have got there faster-"

"You said you got there as fast as you could, and knowing how you drive, I'm sure that was scary fast," Cordelia pointed out. "Besides, it didn't matter how fast you got there, they waited to kill her until you were there, right?"

"I shouldn't have gone slaying. I shouldn't have left her alone like that-"

"Slaying was your job, Faith. You can't guard anyone 24/7. If they really wanted her, they would have got her whatever you did. Besides, how were you supposed to know they would take her? Being Slayer doesn't make you psychic," Cordelia countered, but Faith's list of self-blame was far from matched yet.

"I should have been more prepared…fought harder…called for back up. Called the cops-"

"Like the cops would really help," Cordelia said incredulously, shaking her head, even as she squeezed Faith's hands. "If they didn't' waste time arguing and not believing you and actually came with you, they would just make more corpses. As for you fighting harder, I know you, and there's no way in hell you didn't fight with all you had. You were a brand new Slayer, Faith, and they knew what they were doing. They knew how to make it so you had no hope…and just the fact that you escaped when they didn't want you to, now THAT is amazing. But your Watcher…that was not your fault."

Cordelia said that, and she seemed to honestly believe it…she didn't seem to be saying it just to make Faith feel better, and Faith knew very well that wasn't something she would do anyway. But whatever Cordelia thought, Faith herself couldn't believe.

Cordelia might have heard the bare minimum details of the facts, but it wasn't enough for her to know…it wasn't enough to understand. She hadn't been there, she hadn't watched it all happen, watched Diana's torment, watched Faith's failure take place before her eyes. Faith had known for almost a year now that her Watcher's death was the worst thing she had ever done, the most massive failure of her life. It was her defining moment in who she was, and what she could no longer be. Privately she had even wondered if Diana's death was the real reason Earl had chosen her, and if her inability to make up for it was the reason he seemed to have now abandoned her…and she would not blame him, if it were true. She would understand.

Cordelia couldn't just come and say it wasn't her fault…she couldn't take this from her. Faith knew what was true, and she couldn't let Cordelia excuse her.

"It is my fault," she said, and though her voice was quiet, she was looking Cordelia in the eye, the conviction in her tone clear. "I let her die."

"You tried to save her," Cordelia corrected, and her own voice was louder now, intense, insistent, her eyes boring so hard back into Faith's that Faith wanted to close her own. "You tried, you did all you could, but it was impossible. That's not a failure. That just means that there was nothing you could have done."

She watched Faith for a few moments, eyes narrowing, but somehow soft, and when she moved closer to her, slipping her arm around her, Faith didn't lean into her, her shoulders stiff beneath the circle of Cordelia's arm. She felt her breathing quickening, and she shook her head tightly, her throat blocking again so it was difficult even to speak one word of protest.

"No," she managed, shaking her head, jaw clinched, fists knotted against her thighs, but Cordelia tightened her arm around her, as though in an effort to keep her from bolting, as she repeated herself.

"There was nothing you could have done, Faith."

"NO-" Faith said with more urgency, the beginnings of panic pressing against her heart, tears burning beneath the back of her eyes…tears she fought to force back.

She shut her eyes, tensing every muscle of her body, and still she saw the pain, the desperation…the love for her, the desire for Faith's safety, in Diana's voice when she told her to run away. Diana's last words had been for Faith…her last thoughts had not been of her own life, but of her concern for Faith's life. How could Faith live knowing that…how could she not take it on as her fault?

But even as she thought this, she could almost hear Diana scolding her, informing her that though she might help to preserve the world, she could not expect to carry it on her shoulders…and for the first time, it struck her that Diana had not blamed her for her death, that such a thought never would have even crossed her mind. In fact, if Diana knew Faith's thoughts, she would probably be pissed off.

As this occurred to her slowly, the revelation shocking and difficult to process, Cordelia spoke again, and though her words were the same, this time they hit her on a much more personal level…because for the first time, Faith allowed herself to consider that they might carry truth.

"There was nothing you could have done," she repeated, and hearing it for the third time, Faith could no longer contain the tears standing behind her eyes.

At first her tears were silent, simply trickling down her face; but when Cordelia tenderly tucked a lock of Faith's hair behind her ear, arm still wrapped around her, a sob broke from her that physically hurt to release, sending vivid pain through her heart. And then Faith was crying with sharp, gasping breaths so harsh and loud in sound they alarmed her, her heart hammering too fast, too wild, and she cuoldn't even try to stop herself.

She cried as she had not cried in over a year, not since the evening of her Watcher's death, when she had felt her world stop, never to be quite hers or right again. She cried with the lack of dignity and control that always alarmed, embarrassed, or disgusted her to see in others, the sort of crying that rattled through a person's entire body until they were weakened, unable to stand, see, or draw a normal breath. She cried until her head throbbed and her nose ran, until she thought she would choke on her own sobs, until it seemed there was nothing in all the world but her pain, so long buried and guarded, now breaking free all at once to drown her in the intensity of its flow. She cried, and as she felt Cordelia's arms close around her, firm, silent, and very present, she bowed her head into her shoulder and hugged her back with a desperate tightness, holding her as though Cordelia was an anchor, keeping her from drifting too far beyond where she could return.

Eventually Faith found herself to be lying on the couch, legs curled to her chest, with her head in Cordelia's lap as her crying lessened to only occasional trickling tears. She had no memory of moving, or of Cordelia coaxing her into this position, and she was too drained to try to think back as to how it had occurred. She simply closed her eyes, soaking in the soothing sensation of Cordelia's fingers in her hair, and a vague feeling of de ja vu that she could not quite place struck her at this situation.

It wasn't until she opened her eyes again, her crying finally stopped entirely, that Faith saw Earl, standing just a few feet away from her head, looking at her with sadness to his gaze…sadness, and a strange glint that looked to her like pride. She tried to lift her head, to point him out to Cordelia, say something, but she couldn't make herself do more than raise her eyes to meet his.

Stepping forward, Earl lightly lay his fingertips against Faith's forehead, briefly stroking its skin, as Cordelia, showing no signs of seeing him, caressed her hair, not blinking an eye. He said nothing, simply stepping back after several moments and then fading away, but when Faith closed her eyes again, she felt somehow calmer, purged of the depths of her pain, and it wasn't long before she was able to drift to sleep.


	41. 41

"Love does not run

Love does not hide

Love does not keep locked inside

Love is a river that flows through

Love never fails you"

"Love never fails," Brandon Heath

Her arm loosely around Cordelia's waist, her fingers entwined with Cordelia's right hand, Faith swayed slightly to the soft, slow rhythm of the music emanating around them. It was some sappy, cheesy love song, of course, the kind Faith would normally roll her eyes at, if not outright mock, but tonight her face was serious, and she felt no inclination to do so; in fact, she barely noticed the song at all.

This sort of dancing was slower than she was used to by far, and though she had danced with Cordelia in this manner once before, when they had hung out together at the Bronze, it didn't mean that she felt comfortable or natural in doing so, just as she hadn't the first time. But it was Cordelia's senior prom, Faith was her date, and damn if she would leave Cordelia standing alone and partner-less while everyone else paired up all around them- even for the freakin' slow songs.

Dancing in this manner put more space between them and involved less touching than Faith's usual, looser method of movement, but somehow the softer, slower beat, the movement meant to accompany it, and the way it encouraged you to pull your partner close against your heart and look into their eyes rather than grind and rub and gyrate against them without really needing to see them at all…somehow this style of dancing, and this dance in particular, was more personal, and Faith swallowed frequently as the music wore on, uncertain, slightly self-conscious…even shy. She had the uncomfortably paranoid feeling that everyone was watching, and at the same time, somehow, it seemed that she, Cordelia, and the music were all that was left in the world.

There was no reason to feel uneasy…this was Cordy, after all, Faith told herself repeatedly through the night. This was Cordy….what did it matter if she looked or felt strange, when this was only Cordy- who cared what anyone else thought?

But somehow it was different tonight…this wasn't the same as most nights of killing time with her, going out for fun…somehow tonight, here with her expensive new dress and Cordelia in hers, with their hair done up and their makeup and everyone else's, and even the tacky prom décor of balloons and streamers and plastic stars, it made it all different…but nice. And one thing Faith would have never thought she could do was go to a prom, not as a crasher and guy stealer, but with friends, as someone's invited date, and not think the whole thing was lame or stupid or boring…but to actually sorta have fun…sorta think it was NICE.

Of course, fully 90% of that probably came from the fact that Cordelia was incredibly, wickedly, smoking hot tonight. More than that…she was gorgeous.

And it was every idiot guy in Sunnydale's dumbass fault and bad luck they hadn't asked Cordelia to be their date before she asked Faith…and Faith's secret pleasure that she was pretty sure Cordelia would have turned them down even if they had, and asked Faith anyway.

Meeting Cordelia's eyes, Faith held her gaze as the song began to draw to a close, still standing close, dimly aware of her heart beginning to quicken in its beats. Cordelia's features were soft, but her eyes were serious, almost searching, her arm still around Faith, for neither was in too much of a rush to pull away. As the song switched over, Faith was unaware of the changed tempo, of bodies shifting and moving at a faster pace around them. She saw only Cordelia, moving closer to her, and she nearly held her breath, closing her eyes, anticipant even without any certainty of who was moving towards who.

Faith had never had any desire at all to go to prom, any prom, ever, and would have been completely fine without seeing for herself what all the fuss was about. The night of Sunnydale's prom she would have been perfectly content slaying or hanging at the Bronze, or even watching old slasher flicks in her apartment instead. But Cordelia wanted to go to prom, she knew, and though Cordelia attempted to downplay her desire, Faith knew she wanted to go pretty badly.

Faith couldn't really blame her for it. After all, it was her senior year, and even if money was tight for them, what did it matter if the Mayor ate them all next week in his Ascension? After all, as of now, they had neither figured out how to get the box again to destroy it nor how to find another way to stop the Ascension, which, based upon the pages Willow had managed to steal, would likely take place on graduation day- probably at the actual ceremony, since the Mayor was scheduled then to give a speech. As of now their plans were sort of nonexistent, except possibly "run and hide." And if that mode of inaction failed, wouldn't it be best, as Cordy insisted, to at least go down having a final semi-normal experience of attending senior prom?

And that wasn't the least of Cordelia's reasoning.

"Even though I had to quit cheerleading, and even though those morons wouldn't know how to vote a decent homecoming queen- ME- even if she handed out fresh-baked cupcakes, which I DID, even if I wasn't the one who baked them, still, only entirely pathetic social recluses don't go to their senior prom," Cordelia had informed Faith. "And since both Xander and Jonathan Levinson are going, and I haven't sunk down below their levels yet, I'm going. And if I am, you're my date. Period."

She had softened her tone slightly then, briefly nudging her shoulder into Faith's. "Besides, one thing we both need is to have a little fun lately. If nothing else, we can mock everyone else…that's always entertaining."

Faith couldn't argue with that. Prom took place only a few days after her breakdown in front of Cordelia, less than two weeks after her torture by Spike, and it definitely wouldn't hurt to lighten things up for a night.

The one concern that had crossed her mind was how, on such short notice, they were supposed to get the money to pay not only for prom tickets, but also dresses and whatever else they'd need for it. Faith wasn't worried about herself- she could do her own hair and makeup, and just wear the dress she'd worn to homecoming. She damn well should get a second use out of it, since she'd had to skip paying rent for weeks to get it even secondhand.

Ever since Faith's breakdown, and Cordelia's efforts to comfort her and stay with her throughout its course, their growing closeness seemed to have deepened to a new level, one that sometimes made Faith a little uneasy to think about…even a little afraid. For every time she began to feel truly close to another person, truly comfortable in their presence, she had lost them, or chased them away. With Cordelia, she felt an understanding between them that she hadn't since her Watcher, maybe even more so than with Diana….as though Faith and Cordelia both knew who the other person was, fears, flaws, and all, and how to be with them to get the best and worst results. Cordelia knew how to anger or irritate Faith, upset her or scare her, and this should make Faith wary…for anyone to have such personal knowledge of her, which made her vulnerable to them, that should scare her. But Faith wasn't afraid, at least, not usually. Instead, somehow this unspoken knowledge between them, knowledge that could be dangerous, was somehow safe for her to have.

They didn't speak about their friendship, or its closeness; neither girl had ever dared to say how deeply she cared for the other, and certainly would never utter the word love. But the love was there. They both knew it, and each suspected the other did as well. And what that meant…well, Faith didn't examine that too closely. But Cordelia should have a new dress, damn it, and whatever she said about not caring about reusing an old one, Faith was going to get her one.

The question at first had been how the hell she would afford it in such short notice. With Wesley sacked from the Council, Faith suspected that her clothing and food allowance was about to be cut drastically, if not all together, since the man was now unemployed and had nowhere to get the funds. With he and Giles reasoning she was still living at Cordelia's parents' house and getting more than what she needed, they probably wouldn't give her anything, at least, she didn't expect them to. and since Faith wasn't taking her GED until the weekend before graduation day- IE, the day after tomorrow- and therefore still had no job, she was stumped at first as to how she was, short of mugging people, supposed to get money.

And from that, the idea had hit her. Why NOT mug people for money- or rather, vampires? They had to carry cash around too, didn't they? Why send perfectly good cash up in smoke with the rest of the vampire when someone else- namely, Faith- could still find good use for them?

And so she had. For the time she had leading up to the prom, Faith had mugged every vampire she came across, using a cross and stake as her threatened weapons, and she had managed to do so with a few demons as well, coming up with $563 – enough, she figured, to get Cordelia a decent dress and still have enough left for other stuff. Of course, this hadn't been as easy as she expected, because for her to find a dress that was sufficiently Cordy, she ended up having to look at higher prices than she had wanted- all the while making excuses of where she was and why she had to be alone for it.

Eventually she found a dress that was a deep purple- lapis, the saleswoman had informed her, peering over her glasses doubtfully, as though she couldn't picture Faith in such a thing. It had a long but light skirt, a low top, sash, and very thin straps, and when Faith saw it, she thought Cordelia would make it stunning. Even in her simpler, recycled black dress, they would be a knockout pair…not that it mattered how Faith looked much as long as Cordelia liked her dress.

That had been the plan, all the way up to the afternoon just after school let out, the day of the prom. With Cordelia on her way home from work to get ready- on Fridays, she had early dismissal from school and so could work earlier hours- Faith had lay the dress she had bought for her out on her bed, grinning as she thought of how Cordelia would look so shocked and incredulous when she first saw it.

Returning to her room and slipping her own dress on, then digging through the mess beneath her bed for the one pair of dressy high heels she owned, she didn't sense the presence behind her until he spoke up, his southern drawl instantly recognizable.

"Looks like you're gonna have a good time tonight," Earl commented, and Faith, shoes in hand, whipped her head around to see him, then stood, straightening her expression into cynicism quickly and crossing her arms.

"You mean you're still alive? See, I wouldn't have guessed since you've been so not here lately."

"I'm not alive, actually. Never was," Earl responded, and when Faith looked at him with narrowed eyes, refusing to smile, he leaned back against her bedpost, meeting her eyes.

"I reckon you're a little ticked off at me, huh?"

The guy was a genius, alright. Faith snorted, shaking her head as her voice dripped with sarcasm in its reply.

"Wow, Earl, how did you come up with that brilliant clue there? Wow, a girl might be "ticked off" if her so-called guardian angel watches her get tortured, does NOTHING, and then doesn't even visit her for a week? Really, who but you could have come up with that conclusion?"

But even as she spoke, the strange thing was that if she was honest with herself, she wasn't that angry…not really. she was irritated, maybe a little hurt, definitely not understanding his reasoning…but she wasn't full on pissed, not like she had been. She hadn't been angry at all, not really, since her breakdown…since Earl had touched her.

She didn't know if this was because of something he had done or the result of her own giving way at last to strong, buried emotion, or if it mattered either way. It wasn't like she had drastically changed how she felt or behaved every day. It wasn't like she was walking around manically happy…it wasn't like her entire life had changed. But SHE felt changed, somehow. Lighter…easier…freer, as though a heaviness that she hadn't been aware of had been lifted away. And with that gone…well, it was hard to work yourself to a rage when you felt so much lighter just BEING.

As if reading her mind, Earl smiled, remarking slyly, "You ain't looking too terribly mad to me, girl."

Faith tried to scowl, but it didn't entirely work, resulting in a quirky half smile.

"Looks can be deceiving, Earl. You should know that…who the hell would think YOU'RE an angel?" she asked pointedly, her eyes scanning over him from his scuffed boots to his worn baseball hat, and Earl laughed, then took a step towards her, laying a gentle hand on her arm.

At first Faith stiffened, feeling as if she should, by principle, pull away, but she didn't really want to, when she thought about it, and she let his hand remain.

"You're feeling better, aren't you?" he asked, and Faith exhaled, nodding.

"Yeah…I kind of am," she admitted, "hell if I know why."

"Because," Earl replied, and the way he was looking at her and touching her, the tone of his voice, made Faith brace herself, sensing that she was in for another lecture of an Earl type special philosophy of why things were the way they were. "It's just like I told you, Faith. Terrible as that was for you, and I know it was terrible…I know it was lonely and frightening and very, very painful," he met her eyes, and somehow his touch felt denser to her then, as if he were lending her extra support or strength with its weight. "But as terrible as that was to get through…it was for your benefit."

As Faith stared at him, skeptical, eyebrows raised, he squeezed her arm lightly as he continued, still holding her gaze with his.

"People carry such darkness inside them, Faith…you know that good as anyone. People got so much hurt and ugliness inside, and they don't let it go, not on their own, 'cause it scares them. They don't' want anyone seeing it, even if they might be able to take it out from them, help them throw it away from them. They try to keep it locked down and shoved out of sight, even from themselves, and hide it away…but if you do that, Faith, and you never bring that hurt and darkness into the light where you can look it in the face and see it for what it is, it's not gonna just go away, is it?"

He paused, watching her, and though what he was saying was beginning to make sense to her, beginning to slowly connect to her own life, and what had been going on with her, her actions for the past year, even though it was all slowly coming together in her thoughts, Faith struggled to keep her face blank, not wanting to give her dawning realizations away. No need to give Earl the satisfaction if she didn't have to.

"You keep pushing it down and ignoring it, and it's gonna build up more and more until it's packed so tight in you it's starting to fester and press against you all around, and it's gonna get harder and harder to pretend it ain't there, 'cause you're gonna feel it pressing against you, trying to get out, all day long," Earl went on, his voice softer now, but no less convincted as he loosened his grip on her arm. "It's gonna keep straining and damaging you in ways you ain't gonna see until it's too late to change it. And if you went on much longer like that, Faith…that was gonna happen to you."

He paused again, letting this sink in, before concluding. "Sometimes people need a nudge to get all that out where it needs to be…even if first, it's gonna bring them more pain."

For several moments Faith regarded him seriously, attempting to process this, to sort out how his words made her feel. Finally she exhaled, speaking slowly but with an edge of disbelieving irritation, but also some amusement.

"So you're telling me you let me be tortured practically to death…so I would CRY?"

At this Earl finally smiled, some of his usual amusement returning, and then, shaking his head, he chuckled before nodding. "Well, it's a little more complicated than that, but I guess in a way, yeah, that's basically it." He chuckled again, almost smirking. "You've got a way of boiling things down to the bare nitty-gritty of it, don't you?"

Faith exhaled again loudly, then shook her head, pulling from Earl's grasp and glowering in his direction. He was simply unbelievable…but even as she spoke somewhat harshly, she realized she still wasn't really angry, even now. At least, not to the point she wanted to kill him…and it wasn't like she'd be able to if she tried.

"So you really are a sadistic bastard," she muttered, but Earl raised an eyebrow, not letting her slide by as easily this time.

"Do you not feel better now, Faith?" he asked, his voice mild, but carrying a firm undertone that indicated he wouldn't allow an untruth to be spoken and remain unchallenged. "Stronger? More connected and whole? Lighter…more hopeful…more free?"

Faith blinked, startled by his list…it was like he'd plucked them straight out of her own thoughts. Knowing him, it was possible, even likely. As she narrowed her eyes at him, not answering, he smiled, taking his as affirmation.

"Faith, purification through the flames may sometimes burn…but you'll never be one to fall to ashes." He reached for her again, turning her face towards him with light but firm touch as he continued. "That's what God wants for you…that's what I'm here to do. I ain't talking purification in the literal sense, 'cause I think you'd be first to tell me you left the literal sense of purity somewhere back around the time you got outta diapers along with most of the other virtues you think I want you to have. But purification, in the way God sees it for you, the way God wants it for you…using everything you go through, every painful thing happening to you in this tainted, hurtful world, not to make you crumble up or harden, but to better you…strengthen you."

He paused, still lightly holding her face, and any traces of a smile was gone as he finished quietly.

"God wants to help you be happy and whole, even if you still got your places where the cracks and breaks repaired…and even without your full consent to go on with it, He already started. The way He goes about it causes pain, but it also brings healing…and His promise, Faith, is to hold and keep you the whole way through. If you'll let Him."

Faith swallowed, finally tearing her gaze away, then shook her head, trying to smirk, laugh, but still not quite able.

"You just don't' give up, do you?" she asked, and Earl shook his head, finally releasing her.

"Not in this world…I'll leave the next one up to you."

He smiled, then stepped back, his tone lightening as he changed the subject.

"Whatever the case, I'm proud of you, girl…you know how far you've come since we first met?"

Not waiting for an answer, he added, "So to show you it's gonna have its rewards, all you've been through, I got you a surprise here…this is probably gonna be the only prize you get that has monetary value, so hope you enjoy."

And then in his hands he was suddenly holding a dress- a deep, almost sapphire blue dress with a long, slim skirt slit to just above the knee, a low, criss-crossed back, and thin straps. The dress was striking without being overly "girly," bold in color and clearly expensive…and also clearly intended to be worn for a formal event. Such as prom.

As Faith stared at it, simultaneously trying to establish how Earl had seemingly pulled it out of thin air- though she supposed that would be nothing for him as compared to setting her ass on fire at any distance- and also to figure out why, exactly, he had it, he smiled, holding it out to her.

"It's for you, silly girl, aren't you gonna try it on? For prom…looks like the right size."

Faith's eyes widened, and she looked from Earl to the dress, then back to Earl again. "That's for me? That dress?"

"Well I'd look pretty silly in it if I didn't bust a zipper trying to squeeze in first, wouldn't I?" earl retorted, and Faith grinned, feeling suddenly and strangely shy, before looking at the dress again, not yet touching it. She had never been one to be very impressed with clothes, and especially not dresses…but this, it was somehow different.

The dress was nothing she would have chosen for herself, but even at a glance Faith could tell it would flatter her in color and style, that she would like how it looked on her. To think of Earl choosing this for her…it was a funny image, yet not really funny at all. Somehow, thinking of Earl having his dress for her touched her, and she couldn't come up with words to lessen the constricted feeling in her throat.

She knew she should be thinking he damn well should be giving her a freaking dress, and a lot else besides, after what he'd let her got through. But somehow she didn't even have the energy to try to feel anger once more, and as she looked at the dress, she still didn't want to.

"It ain't here just to be looked at," Earl smiled, then thrust it into her arms. "Go try it on…and come back and let me see before I gotta take off, okay?"

Taking the dress into her and Cordelia's shared bathroom, almost in a daze, Faith slipped it on, fumbling with the zipper in the back, and then looked at herself in the full length mirror Cordelia had posted on the back of the door, somewhat stunned by its resulting reflection. She didn't quite look like herself. Even without having fixed her hair or makeup yet, the dress made her look taller and older somehow, fitting as if it had been made for her.

Finally tearing her eyes away and opening the door, Faith thought maybe it wasn't an entirely bad thing that she looked different…that maybe it was possible she looked not just hot, but pretty.

Pretty was not a word Faith ever thought about in connection with herself. Pretty was a soft word, a Buffy word, used to describe girls like Buffy…Faith was not a "pretty" sort of girl, and she found herself self-conscious as she returned to Earl, trying to think up a sarcastic remark before she could speak.

But pretty was not the word Earl used when he looked her over, then smiled sincerely, his eyes soft.

"Well, look at you…you're a beautiful young woman, Faith Lehane," he said warmly, and the way he was looking at her, with pride and affection, as if he'd had something to do with her appearance personally, Faith wanted to make a snarky comment, or at least roll her eyes and look exasperated. But again, she was annoyed at her own embarrassment, and she looked away, shrugging as she attempted to deflect his words.

"It's just a dress…other than that, I look same as always. You can pick up your jaw and-"

"Girl, just accept the fact when it's stated without trying to prove it wrong, 'cause you ain't gonna be able to do it, especially when it's me you're arguing against," Earl laughed. "You're beautiful, not whatever silly alternate word you're wanting to use, tonight and every night, that's what I know, and you ain't gonna find many humans who'd be dumb enough to disagree." He paused, then added in a tone so fully nonchalant that Faith at first didn't comprehend, "And I know Professor Dormer thinks the same, smart woman that she is."

He was making movements as if preparing to leave before it hit her, the meaning of his words. Spine stiffening, her head shooting up to meet his gaze, Faith gestured somewhat jerkily at him, eyes widening, as she tried to clarify what she had just heard, feeling her heart quicken in its beats.

"WHAT? Professor Dormer…she thinks…how the hell would YOU know what she thinks…when she's-"

"I have my ways," Earl replied vaguely, and he reached to pat her shoulder before pulling away again, ambling towards her doorway. "People's thoughts and opinions just don't stop after death, Faith…and neither do they."

He was still turned from her, fiddling with the doorknob, though Faith knew this must be a deliberate evasion, as he always just disappeared whenever he felt like leaving. She stared at his back, her thoughts stumbling and tangling around each other, then blurted, "Earl…do you KNOW her…NOW? Is she…is Diana an angel?"

Earl turned back and looked her in the eye, and though he gave no definite answer, Faith could see the yes in his expression.

"You have fun tonight, Faith…you and Cordy both, okay?"

And then, though his hand was still on her doorknob, as if he intended to exit it like a normal person, he disappeared, leaving Faith unmoving, staring towards the doorway as her heart slowly squeezed in her chest.


	42. 42

"You're beautiful, you're beautiful

You are made for so much more than all of this

You're beautiful, you're beautiful

You are treasured, you are sacred, you are His"

"Beautiful," Mercyme

It wasn't until she heard the front door open and close a few minutes later and Cordelia opened the door of her bedroom abruptly, then, as she took in Faiths' dress, hearing her loud, shocked gasp and seeing her nearly-pop-eyed expression that Faith could pull her thoughts back into the future, focusing on something safer than what Earl had left her with.

"Where the hell did you get that?" Cordelia almost shrieked, pointing a finger that Faith was startled to see was actually shaking at Faith's dress in an accusing fashion. "What the hell, I thought you were wearing your old one, or one of mine, where did THAT come from?"

"It's a long story," Faith shook her head, and as Cordelia continued to gawk, not bothering to raise her eyes from the dress to look up into her face, Faith felt her ears heat again, irritated as well as self-conscious now. Was the sight of her in a dress that wasn't black THAT hard to get over?

"WHAT, Cor, it's a dress, Faith's in a dress, so what?" she snapped, crossing her arms. "I didn't steal it or mug an old lady to get the money for it, so what are you staring for?"

Cordelia shook her head, then exhaled, tearing her gaze from Faith's dress to her face, her tone closer to normal now as she responded. "It's just a completely weird coincidence, I guess…I mean, I don't know if Giles or Wesley gave you that, or Buffy, or whoever, but it's totally weird…because, see, that dress, there was one just like it at work, and I always thought it sort of looked like one that would look good on you. Not one that you'd pick, necessarily, but one that you SHOULD pick, you know?"

She shrugged, and there was something slightly embarrassed, more dominantly defensive, in her expression mirroring Faith's as she continued.

"I thought it would be a good dress for prom for you, is all, and sort of…well…was trying to save some money towards it. In case it went on sale, or…whatever. Anyway, I had it sort of…hidden, but some guy came in and found it. He said he was looking for a dress for his daughter, and that she was about 5'5 and 115, 120 pounds, dark hair and eyes, sounded like your freaking twin or something," Cordelia rolled her eyes, seemingly exasperated, even disgusted, at the thought of a Faith look-alike walking around in the dress she'd wanted for her. "And then he found that dress and that was the end of it. I thought it was weird. I mean, what daughter lets her DAD pick out her prom dress, and doesn't even go with him?"

"Cordy," Faith asked with dawning suspicion as she thought this story over, brow furrowing, "what did this guy look like, buying the dress? Do you remember?"

"Well that was what was really weird," Cordelia rolled her eyes again, "he was old, like sixty or something, and here he is standing in his formal dress store in a freaking baseball hat and flannel shirt. You should have SEEN how old and dirty-looking his jeans were, and his boots, and I swear he had tobacco in his mouth-"

As what she was saying struck her too, she stopped, raising her eyes to Faith's.

"Wait…EARL? Did I see EARL?"

"Think so," Faith confirmed, nodding down at her dress, "just got this via angel delivery…so he actually went SHOPPING for this?"

"You're telling me that was your guardian angel?" Cordelia snickered, shaking her head, then laughed outright. "As long as he's shopping around, he could have got me one too, while he was at it."

At this, Faith smiled, then, tossing her hair back off her shoulders, took Cordelia's arm, beginning to herd her towards Cordelia's room. "The guy can't do everything, I guess…but maybe I took up his slack this time…"

88888888888888888888

As Faith had hoped, Cordelia had been shocked, but also thrilled to see the dress spread over her bed. After her initial sputtered questions and exclamations, her stroking and scrutinizing of the dress, and then her only partly angry lecture to Faith about the money she had spent on it, she had again smiled, though softer then, less beaming and incredulous than grateful and pleased, and she had hugged her tightly, saying her thanks with soft sincerity in Faith's ear one more time before surprising her with a kiss to her cheek. Faith had barely registered this before Cordelia had pulled back, looked at her critically, and declared that whether or not Faith wanted or thought she needed it, she was going to get Cordelia's help doing her hair and makeup.

"After all, you're my date, so you have to look like you at least semi match me on the hotness scale…none of that dark crap all over your eyes," she had declared, as shoving Faith by the shoulders to sit on the edge of her bed, she had then busied herself scattering various makeups and containers, brushes, curling irons, mousse, and gel across its cover. "Tonight you're gonna be a walking model of Cordelia Chase's fashion and beauty expertise, and you're not even thinking about changing one thing about what I do with you."

This rather ominous command had brought Faith nothing but apprehension- there was no telling what she'd end up looking like by the time Cordy got through with her. But the other girl had started in on her so quickly and determinedly there was little point in arguing, and she had resigned herself to whatever probably freakishly girly results she would get.

But when Cordelia finished, eyeing her closely before giving a nod of approval and declaring that she was damn good at this, and allowed Faith to get up and look in the mirror, Faith had braced herself, ready for the horrific sight of a Barbie doll prom queen face staring back at her. But instead, she had gone still, looking at herself not with horror, but faint amazement.

Cordelia had used makeup with a lighter hand and in more natural colors than Faith usually went for, blending several shades in such a way that her skin seemed smooth, soft, almost glowing, her lips a lighter shade, with a glistening gloss finish that nevertheless drew one's attention. She hadn't used very much or very dark mascara or eyeliner, but something about how she had made up her eyes made them seem larger, bringing out the green tints to emphasize their hazel color. Usually, even Faith herself mostly noticed the brown in her eyes; after Cordelia's work, the gold and green popped out equally, and the effect was different, almost arresting.

She looked softer, but not necessarily delicate or overly girly…it was a way Faith was sure she hadn't looked before, a way she was hesitant to put a definitive word to. because words like pretty, or even stronger adjectives, whatever Earl said…

She had been relieved when Cordelia, coming to stand beside her in the mirror, had not used any of those words, but simply nodded with satisfaction.

"Yep, you look way hotter without that black gunky stuff you like so much…damn good job on my part, I've gotta say." Nudging her slightly, these brief words of praise apparently all forthcoming, she added abruptly, "It's my turn now, I need the mirror. Sit down and don't screw with what I've done, and do NOT touch your hair."

Cordelia took much longer with herself than she had with Faith, but Faith thought the results were more than worth it. She was in her view a whole new level of knockout. By the time they were ready to head out, Faith realized to her own amazement she was actually sort of looking forward to the prom…if everyone there looked half as good as Cordy, how could she complain about taking in so much hotness?

Oz and Willow, Xander and his date Anya, even Giles and Wesley had already been there when Cordelia and Faith arrived, each greeting and complimenting them in their own ways- though Faith had been amused to see how hard Xander had had to try to keep his from being of the gawking variety, and how quickly Anya had dragged him away from her. Even Giles had told her she looked "very nice," and Wesley, in a rather awkward fashion, had gone so far as to say she looked "lovely." Faith made up her mind then to make him dance with her at least once, if only to enjoy his embarrassment.

Buffy, as expected, had arrived late- some deal with attacking hellhounds that some loser had bred to break into prom. She had, despite offers from the others, insisted on dealing with it alone, telling them to have their fun- "especially you, Faith, who shouldn't even be slaying yet," she had added particularly sternly before finishing off her rationale that, as she was also the only one without a date, having recently just broke up with Angel, she was also the only one who it wouldn't matter about being late.

It had taken a day or two before Faith found out, what with her recovery period after her injuries and everyone focusing on that when they saw her, but Buffy and Angel had split up on the third or fourth day after she had regained consciousness. Even now Faith didn't know all the gory details, and she wasn't about to ask and have to sit there awkwardly, in the event of Buffy unleashing a torrent of tears in her reply. So far Buffy had seemed pretty stoic about it all, but then, it wasn't like Faith expected her to come in crying on her shoulder about her romantic failure when Faith was just recovering from life threatening injuries. That wasn't something Buffy would do, if she felt any guilt, however misplaced, over them, and Faith suspected she still did.

Faith felt awkward sympathy for her- after all, Buffy had truly loved Angel, or at least thought she did, and it couldn't be easy to end such a long and intense relationship, even if she had had doubts for some time. but other than her sincerely, if uncomfortable, expressed condolences, she hadn't been able to think of what to say, and Buffy's nonchalant, almost too bright exterior had made it easy to just go along with what she seemed to want- ignoring the break up and avoiding talking about Angel.

Still, Faith saw the pain standing in Buffy's eyes even through her smiles, and she suspected that she had often cried on Willow's or her mother's shoulders when Faith was nowhere in sight, that their friendship had not yet reached the point where they trusted each other enough to let the other girl see them raw and naked in their hurt. But whether or not Buffy wanted her to see it, she saw it all the same and resolved that when Buffy showed up at prom, she wouldn't let her stand alone feeling sad. Whatever it took, she would make sure she had a good time too.

When Buffy did enter the school's decked-out gym, two hours after prom had begun, there was no evidence of her hellhound struggles. Willow had arranged with Faith to leave her necessary supplies, dress, and shoes in the girls' locker room, and she had managed to pull herself together just in time for the last dance before the announcement of prom king and queen. As Faith went to give her a friendly hug in greeting, she thought that Buffy, in her pale purplish-pink dress, her hair half loose, half pulled back, looked beautiful- and when only a few minutes later, she was presented with a surprise award for class protector, Faith was genuinely glad for her recognition.

As she watched Buffy walk up to receive the rather goofy-looking trophy, which looked to Faith like nothing more than a hastily grabbed, if somewhat prettified, umbrella, it crossed her mind briefly that Buffy wasn't the only "protector" of the class, but she shrugged it off, clapping for her with enthusiasm. After all, it was Buffy's class to protect, and Buffy's job to protect them for longer than Faith had even been a Slayer. Buffy deserved this perk to her night. Especially after spending half of it already chasing slobbery, homicidal canines.

When the first slow song since Buffy's arrival started to play, immediately after the awards were given, Faith nudged Cordelia, then looked around for Buffy, meaning to prod Giles or Wesley into dancing with her if no other guy was offering, or failing that, to grab her and find a way to dance with both her and Cordelia at once. But when her eyes came to rest on Buffy amongst the crowd, her mouth opened, eyebrows lifting in surprise, for standing across from Buffy, only a foot or two away, was a tux-clad Angel, his face serious as she looked down at Buffy. She watched the shock in Buffy's face, then the slow smile curving her lips before Buffy stepped into his arms, resting her head against his chest, and nudged Cordelia again, stepping closer to her to speak into her ear over the music.

"I thought they broke up! Are they already back, just like that? NOW?"

"Please," Cordelia rolled her eyes, "more like he got a guilt attack at the thought of her spending her senior prom standing in the corner or just dancing with girls…not to mention he figured out either you or Mrs. Summers would stake him if Buffy cried all night over him not being here. You ask me, this is just for tonight….this is a "sure you broke my heart and we really suck together, sometimes literally, but let's have one last dance" pity sort of thing. And if it's not, then I'm killing them both, because one thing I'm tired of is watching live reenactments of the Buffy and Angel saga."

"I wouldn't have let her stand in the corner all night," Faith protested, shaking her head, "I was about to bring her back over here, join the group of hot singles…make our own little clique. You know, kickass chicks who don't have or need dumbass guys…unless it's just for an hour or two," she smirked, and Cordelia rolled her eyes again, giving her an elbow to the side.

"Dumped or not, Buffy would have to learn to deal," she declared, taking Faith's arm almost possessively. "My date, my partner, and you are NOT about to leave ME standing alone here like a total loser because you pity HER."

Meeting her eyes, Faith smiled, then took her hands into hers, a silent invitation even before she pulled her to the dance floor.

"I'm not going to leave you alone," she told her, and somehow her words seemed a heavier weight than she'd intended, as though they were a promise…and even as she quickly considered clarifying, trying to take them back, Faith realized she couldn't. Because she meant them.

As she wound her arm about Cordelia's waist, pulling her closer and turning in slow rhythm with the music's beat, it seemed to Faith that the music was growing softer, the lights around them dimmer, the other couples less close and real, until eventually all she was aware of was Cordelia's hand in hers, Cordelia's waist beneath her arm, her hip and leg brushing Faith's, and the dark, searching seriousness of her eyes…she was very aware of the sudden dryness of her throat, her pulse growing faster until her skin felt flushed all over, her heartbeat so loud she was sure Cordelia must hear it, and she could almost believe she heard Cordelia's too. And as the song ended, a faster strain of music replacing it, causing all the couples to break apart to adjust themselves to its beat, Faith ignored it, remaining close to Cordelia, hand in hers, looking up into her eyes.

She wasn't sure who initiated the first drawing forward, herself or Cordelia, but it didn't seem to matter. Either way, they were moving towards each other, faces close, closer…and as Faith closed her eyes, tilted back her head, and met Cordelia's lips with her own, she felt a rapid rush of warmth and pleasure of surprising intensity flood through her, so her entire body loosened, leaning into her, eager, open-

That is, until the sound of a familiar voice close by pierced her hearing, less than two seconds after her kiss had first begun- a voice that insured two seconds was nearly the full length of how long it would last.

"Hey guys, have you seen Buf- whoa! What the- I- whoa, whoa, whoa!"

At this shocked, horrified exclamation behind them, Cordelia jerked away, taking a step back from Faith hurriedly, as if to put deliberate distance between them, as both she and Faith swiveled their heads in its direction. Willow stood a few feet away from her, eyes nearly bulging, making no attempt to hide the astonishment plainly splashed across her features as her eyes darted between Faith and Cordelia, her body rigid, seemingly rooted in place. And as Faith took in Cordelia's florid face and mortified, almost angry expression, her stomach sank, her heart twisting hard in her chest…she could think of no way this could end but badly.

As the three girls stood, almost frozen, on the outskirts of the dance floor, Cordelia and Faith close in proximity, if not touching, Willow a few feet away, and yet, in Faith's view, too close, way, way too close in every possible meaning of the word, no one spoke. If Cordelia and Willow felt anything like Faith did, they couldn't gather their thoughts into any statement more coherent than a string of profanity, and as it was, even those seemed unable to actually come out in the form of words.

After what seemed an eternity of stony silence, ringing and reverberating in Faith's ears even as the music and noise of the crowd raged around her in seemingly parallel planes, Willow began to sputter again, blinking frequently, eyes darting in continued stunned near stupor between Faith and Cordelia as she attempted to make sense of a situation that seemed to have nearly clubbed her upside the head with his shock value to her.

"You…F-Faith…and, and Cordelia…you-"

"WHAT? What the HELL are you looking at me like that for?" Cordelia snapped, and the venom dripping from her tone, the dark, closed off, almost cruel expression twisting across her face, made Willow swallow, taking a step back, even as Faith too turned to stare at her.

She had not heard Cordelia speak that way, even towards Willow, whom she very much disliked and often showed some disgust or resentment towards in some way, in a very long time…she certainly hadn't seen her look at anyone like that, no matter how much they pissed her off. And as she thought about the softness of Cordelia's features, the near vulnerability in her eyes before Faith let their lips meet, then looked over at the near ire in Cordelia's face now, the way her skin flushed, the muscles of her neck and jaw and shoulders tensed, her fists clinched, Faith's heart squeezed still more painfully.

She should never have let this happen…why had she let this happen? Why the FUCK had she kissed Cordelia, in public, no less, at her PROM, where anyone could see…how could she have let this happen, how could she let herself yet again do something to fuck up the best relationship she had going?

And yet…why did Cordelia care so much, if Faith was supposed to be her only real friend?

"I'm not staring!" Willow said hurriedly, tearing her eyes from Cordelia, but they didn't settle on Faith either, instead repeatedly flicking between the girls. "It's just…but you…but you two…what about…I thought, with the guys, not the girls…and you were…k-kissing…there was-"

"Shut up, Willow," Cordelia growled, her jaw held so tightly Faith could practically hear her teeth grinding, but once Willow started, she seemed not quite able to stop yet.

"But…but you two…with the…I didn't know you were- I mean, Faith, maybe, but YOU-" she gestured feebly towards Cordelia, eyes still wide and earnest with her stuttering effort to process.

Cordelia shook her head vehemently, voice rising. "We aren't ANYTHING, Willow, okay, there was no ANYTHING!"

Faith's face flamed further, her own jaw clinching, and she turned slightly away from them both, the humiliation, growing anger, and most prominently, hurt of the moment rendering her barely able to stay put for another moment. If this hadn't happened, in Cordelia's mind…if kissing her would be that awful and unthinkable, even if she HAD been giving off all the right signals just a minute ago, even if she HAD seemed to like it before Willow butted in…if what they had, whatever the hell it was, was NOTHING, then that made Faith nothing too.

"I'm gonna take off," she started, but Cordelia seized her arm, her voice calmer now as she inhaled slowly, then addressed them both more levelly.

"No you're not, not yet. Look, Faith, I didn't mean it like it came out, okay? Willow," she turned to the other girl, still gripping Faith's arm, and her voice cooled, becoming more calculating, not far from a threat as she narrowed her eyes. "When it comes to kissing people and wanting to keep it to yourself, we all know YOU'VE been there and done that. A lot. With MY boyfriend. And you were very, very good at it, remember? And you owe me for it. So I think you, of all people, understand why you won't be talking about this unless I say you can…don't you."

Willow swallowed, thinning her lips, and again her eyes averted before she took in a slow breath, meeting Cordelia's eyes again and nodding slowly, shoulders hunching in guilt.

"Um…okay," she almost whispered, then added, "But…you two- are you-"

"NO," Cordelia snapped, then amended, "I mean…well…Willow, go find Oz and borrow his not talking habit a while!"

As Willow finally backed away, sending a final disbelieving glance in their direction, Cordelia let out another long sigh. It held such emotion that Faith stiffened, struck by the sudden slumping of her shoulders as she released Faith's arm. It was the defeated look of her posture then that stabbed Faith to the heart, and she turned away again, muttering a half-hearted explanation that didn't make sense even to herself. But Cordelia took her arm again, holding it firmly before Faith could yank it back.

"No, wait. Don't do your walking off pissed and hurt routine, Faith, okay?" she sighed, and as she briefly steepled her fingertips to her forehead, Faith thought she looked even more tired than before. "I told you, I didn't mean it like it sounded about us not being anything. You're…you know that's not…look, I don't' know what I mean about anything right now, and I just need a little space, okay? To think…to BREATHE. We'll talk later. Just…don't go off to sulk in a corner or get yourself half killed slaying with only a stiletto as the weapon."

As Faith looked up at her, seeing that she was sincere in her seeming concern even in the face of her desire to pull away, then nodded jerkily, Cordelia exhaled again, patting her arm lightly, if very quickly, then released her, backing away.

"We'll talk later," she repeated before moving to blend in with the rest of the crowd, leaving Faith standing alone.


	43. 43

"I love you more than the sun

And the stars that I taught how to shine

You are mine, and you shine for me too"

"More," Matthew West

Cordelia had told her not to go brood in a corner, and Faith didn't, though she had equally strong desires to either do that or flee the building entirely. Instead, she made her way to the punch and chocolate fountain table, pouring herself a drink and gulping it rapidly as she bitterly cursed the fact that it was stupid plain normal punch, with no one having the decency to spike it. She was startled when, as she went to set down the depleted glass, it shattered in her hand, scattering glass across the table and giving her a shallow cut across her palm.

As Faith busied herself pushing all the glass into a nearby trashcan and dabbing at the small amount of blood on her hand with a napkin, she tried to ignore the fact that her hands were shaking, that her thoughts were so insistent and crowded in her mind she could not ignore them if she tried. She tried to keep an eye out just in case Giles or Wesley or Xander or god forbid, Buffy, saw her, came over to help her clean up or bubble over with enthusiasm about the evening and how amazingly super awesome of a time they were having, and then noticed that it was all Faith could do to keep from screaming, running, attacking someone, or damn it all, this was the last fucking thing she should do, cry.

Cordelia had been the last of them to ever see her cry, and if she was the cause of it now, with Faith here in public for everyone to see, one of them wasn't going to survive the night, and Faith wasn't taking bets on which would be the one to go.

She had swept the last of the glass into the trash and was moving it back to its original position when she felt a hand on her back, causing her to immediately stiffen, even before she heard the voice attached to the hand.

"Come on…let's get out of here."

It was Cordelia speaking, and as Faith turned to look at her, there was no anger, irritation, or even fear or embarrassment in the other girl's face any longer. In fact, it was difficult for Faith to be able to read her expression at all; it was as if she had carefully arranged her features and posture to be as neutral as possible, with only traces of tension remaining. Still, it was Faith she was looking at, no one else, not even a glance around to see if anyone was watching or to make sure they weren't, and even if she didn't know what Cordelia was thinking or what was going on, she could have at least a degree of hope that this was a good sign. After all, Cordelia could have refused to continue being seen with her.

Neither girl spoke as they walked out of the gym and then exited the school entirely, not bothering to tell the others of their departure. If anyone was worried, Willow would be sure to put two and two together and know the reason they had left, even if she couldn't by threat of Cordy explain the exact details of why. As they walked towards Cordelia's car, then climbed inside, starting off with their silence stretching on, Faith stared ahead, not letting herself glance over toward Cordelia even briefly. The more she tried to figure out what the other girl was thinking, the more confused she got. In the end she tried to focus on keeping her heartbeat at a level acceptably low enough to be sure Cordelia wouldn't hear it, and to keep her palm from her unconscious clinching of fists. The drive to their apartment was not a very great distance, but the quiet between them made it seem very long and pained to endure.

Both girls almost jumped out of the car when Cordelia pulled up to her apartment parking lot, eager to escape a space that had grown increasingly claustrophobic as time went on. Cordelia said something to Faith about changing her clothes, and Faith quickly agreed, not asking if Cordelia needed help to undo her zipper. Being that close to her partially undressed in current circumstances would be entirely too strange and uncomfortable, so she retreated to her own room, almost fervent in her rapid removal of her dress, shoes, and hair accessories, tossing them haphazardly to the floor. She didn't want them anywhere near her anymore, as any kind of reminder of the evening she now only wanted to forget.

Catching sight of herself in the mirror, with her more natural than usual makeup and her hair recently released from its hairspray and bobby pin trappings, she watched as her cheeks flushed, and her brow drew into an angry scowl, even as her eyebrows slanted downward.

She should have known a simple change in appearance changed nothing at all, in the end. But then, had she even been trying to change something? had she even wanted to? Or had she just acted on impulse in the heat of the moment?

She didn't know anything about feeling for Cordelia in any way as more than a friend…she did know that if she had lost that friendship now, it would be the same as losing everything.

Usually Faith slept in a tank and boi shorts, if anything at all, but tonight she pulled on a baggy t-shirt and long pajama bottoms, feeling a need to cover herself more than usual from Cordelia, as if showing as much skin as usual might make her think that Faith was sending some kind of message. She was trying to brush out the hairspray from her hair when a knock sounded on her door, and Cordelia called out to her.

"Faith? I'll be in the living room when you're ready to come out and talk. And when I say 'when you're ready' I mean within the next five minutes. Because if you stay in your room avoiding this all night, like you usually try, it's not like I don't know how to use a butter knife or credit card to open the door."

Faith knew better than to question whether the threat was idle; she knew by now that Cordelia very rarely said anything she didn't mean. And that was exactly what bothered her when she thought about her exchange with Willow…how much of it had she meant?

As she left her room, seeing Cordelia sitting on their couch, waiting, she hesitated, then sat next to her, keeping space between. Cordelia, clad now in loose-fitting matched pajamas, wasted no time in turning to face Faith, launching into a spur of the moment speech.

"Look, Faith," she began, releasing her breath, and her voice was determined, focused, even if her eyes held a degree of softness. "What happened tonight, with the dancing, and the kissing…I'm not gay. I think you know that, and I really don't think you're gay either. At least not the all the way, 110% Rosie O'Donnell kind of gay…thank God," she muttered under her breath, before adding quickly, "not that there's anything wrong with that, if you were. Or we were. But we're not. But…that doesn't mean things can't happen…or that things aren't there."

She exhaled again, pausing, before continuing more smoothly. "Look, if we were Buffy, we'd deny all day long, even if we had twenty rainbow flags in our front lawn, flying high and waving proud. But we're not, so let's get to this without beating around a whole forest of bushes first, okay?"

She continued to hold Faith's gaze steadily, barely waiting for her to nod before resuming. "I'm not gay, Faith. Since I know that and you know that and I haven't been gay all my life, I'm not thinking I'm going to suddenly realize I was just kidding about the dating of guys thing. And I'm pretty sure you're not gay either- at least not the flaming man-hating-ew-men-all-women kind…or else you've got a lot of explaining to do about the Xander sex. Or maybe not, actually," she muttered, lips quirking into a smirk, before she grew serious again. "Anyway, you're not, right? Fully, 100% gay- you're into guys, right?"

Even as Faith nodded tightly, she could feel herself tensing further, sick with her silent foreboding of what was coming. If Cordelia wasn't gay, and she herself wasn't…at least, on the level of what Cordelia would classify as "fully, 100% gay…" then what else could that equal to in Cordelia's mind other than their kiss and any other not strictly platonic physical contact between them, as wrong, unwanted, a mistake? What could that mean other than Cordelia regretted it, maybe was ashamed or disgusted by it…what could it mean except that their friendship had just taken a strange and unwelcome detour, and maybe was damaged as a result?

But Cordelia didn't say or imply any of this. In fact, what she said differed so drastically from the dark predictions clouding Faith's thoughts that when Faith first heard them, it took her a few seconds to hear them as Cordelia had said them rather than as she had expected them to be voiced.

"So, you're not gay, I'm not gay…which makes this all way unexpected and way, way confusing," Cordelia summed bluntly, shrugging as she exhaled again. "I don't know what it was back there, going on between us, but I think we can agree there was something, right? That maybe there has been for a while…maybe there is even now. And, well, it's not like I was standing there thinking, "wow, I really want to kiss Faith…" but I didn't NOT want to. And I don't know that I wouldn't want to do it again. I mean…well, that's pretty much it, I guess. I wouldn't be totally against kissing you again…though if it was gonna happen, out of view of everyone I've known since I was five years old might be preferable."

Faith could find no words at first. She blinked, repeating inwardly what she had heard as she tried to find an alternate meaning more in line with her thoughts. Finally coming to the conclusion that there didn't seem to be one, she held one hand palms up, the other gesturing vaguely, as she said with slow disbelief coloring her tone, "So…what happened…you're…sort of okay with it now? You're not…freaked out, or…sorry, or, I don't know, disgusted?"

Her voice dropped at the last word, her eyes shifting away, suddenly not wanting to see Cordelia's initial unguarded reaction to her choice of words. Because whatever Cordelia said now, given her previous horror at Willow's viewing of their indiscretion at prom, she found it hard to accept now that Cordelia could look back at it now and state with honesty that she didn't find it to be disturbing or distasteful…that she didn't regret it.

"Well, I'm not gonna lie and say I wasn't a little freaked," Cordelia admitted, and as Faith's stomach tightened, and she kept her face slightly turned away so as not to let Cordelia see any hurt that might have come, sans permission, to her eyes. "I mean, like I said, all of this isn't something I ever expected or thought about…and for the first time I get experimental to be in front of the entire school, well, that's not exactly an ideal placement for security AND new levels of the sexual scale."

She frowned, seeming to notice then Faith's averted gaze, and reached out to physically turn her chin towards her, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay, how do you still manage to run away when people are trying to talk to you when your ass is glued to your seat? Look at me…you're not fooling anyone about not having hurt feelings or pride or whatever by just not looking at me, and maybe if you actually listened when I talked to you and let me finish, you wouldn't have anything you think you have to hide anyway." She dropped her hand from Faith's chin, but made sure she was still looking at her before she would go on.

"NO, I wasn't disgusted, I kissed you back, didn't I? I didn't scream and claw at your eyes or get myself disinfected, and damn, Faith, if you really thought I would that's pretty insulting to us both," Cordelia informed her, and there was some hurt along with the irritation in her tone. "I'm not Buffy. I don't cringe and squirm and act squeamish at any mention of sex while having wild fantasies in my head that I'd deny until my nose grew six feet long even if they were as boring and normal as anything. I'm not a total prude. Virgin, yeah, and don't you dare spread that one around by the way, I may not be ashamed of it, but it's no one's damn business to make it their goal to CORRUPT me or something. I might be a virgin, but I'm NOT a prude. Just because I never really thought about girls like that before doesn't mean it's not a possibility to acknowledge, or that if it cropped up, like now, that I would just deny without giving it a second thought."

She shook her head, muttering under her breath, "That's Buffy's and Willow's department, and the last thing I want is to model myself after them."

Faith had been following all of this pretty well until this last comment, but at this she jerked her head up, blurting with no small amount of surprise, "You thought so too, with Willow and Buffy? Really?"

"Please, they're screaming rainbow and don't even notice," Cordelia rolled her eyes, making a dismissive motion with her hand. "Buffy's probably just bi-curious though…she'll probably have a one night stand with some Asian chick who worships the ground she walks on and then dump her with the "that was new and kinky fun…for one night" speech. But Willow…the girl might be with Oz now, but she's like a walking time bomb for "turns lesbian in college." I mean, Oz is short and wears nail polish, it's not like it would be a drastic switch."

Faith grinned, and when she saw that Cordelia was smiling too, they held each other's eyes for a few moments without the previously heavy awkwardness before Faith cleared her throat.

"So…you're saying you do think about me like that? Like, sexually?"

With Buffy, Faith would have had no problem saying this out loud; with Buffy she would have smirked, leaned close, and let her voice drop as low and husky as she could while walking fingers up Buffy's arm, letting her hair or even her breast brush the other girl as she enjoyed doing what she could to embarrass and discomfort her. But with Buffy, there was no danger; Faith knew exactly how the situation would turn out, what Buffy would think or say or do, and all of it was hypothetical, a game more than reality. She knew Buffy would never take her up on any offer, but she also knew that Buffy wouldn't' crush her heart with her rejections…how could she, when Faith knew they were coming and fully expected them?

But with Cordelia, it was new, different, and that much more serious…that much more scary. Faith did not know Cordelia's answer to a question she genuinely wanted to know the answer to, and she waited, almost holding her breath, even as she schooled herself not to show the tension and even fear pressing heavily against her chest.

Cordelia took her time to begin responding, thinking about her answer, and when she spoke her voice remained slow, measured, as if she were still attempting to sort through her thoughts.

"I don't know. Maybe, sometimes…it's not like I drool over you all day long or write your name in hearts inside my notebooks," Cordelia rolled her eyes, and Faith smirked in spite of herself at the unlikely image. "But, you know…I'm not totally blind, you're around all the time, you're freakin' beautiful, and I AM a teenager. Even if I'm not as pathetic and horny as MOST teenagers, that still doesn't mean I don't' have-"

Normally Faith would have been more than glad to hear about what Cordelia "had" even if she wasn't "pathetic and horny," but when Cordelia said the word beautiful in reference to herself, the second time this word had been used to describe her in one day, Faith sat up straighter, blurting out an interruption with eyebrows raising.

"Wait, I'm BEAUTIFUL?"

"You don't have to get all cocky about it," Cordelia said impatiently, missing that there was shock, not teasing, in her tone. "Yeah, I said you're beautiful, big whoop. What I'm trying to say is, it's not like-"

"You think I'm beautiful- you too? BEAUTIFUL?" Faith repeated, unable to move past this to focus on anything else Cordelia might have to say.

Cordelia looked at her with slightly narrowed eyes now, seeming thrown as she saw that the other girl was serious in her incredulity.

"Well, yeah. It's not like it's such a shocker, is it?"

When Faith said nothing, attempting to rearrange her features into nonchalance, Cordelia continued to stare at her. "I mean…you already knew that, that you're beautiful, and anyone with brains and eyes sees it…didn't you?"

Well this was turning into a way bigger deal than Faith had wanted or intended…this was starting to show a piece of her she didn't want attention drawn to, even Cordelia's…maybe especially Cordelia's. Trying to head off from further discussion, Faith smiled quickly, shrugging as she replied. "Yeah, sure, just…didn't know YOU would actually get around to admitting it any time soon."

But Cordelia was still watching her, and her expression didn't change, making it clear she wasn't fooled…and as she spoke, her voice quiet, but somehow forceful, she lay a hand on Faith's arm and kept it there, as if to emphasize her point.

"You don't know, do you? That you're beautiful. Well…you are, Faith. Really…you are."

Both girls were silent as Faith took this in, still trying not to look at her for long, Cordelia still trying to catch her eye. To her own fierce dislike, Cordelia's words had hit her hard, almost painful in an impact that seemed to press around her whole heart, and she inhaled slowly, praying that she wouldn't start shaking or blushing or any other display of emotion other than calm acceptance. She didn't know what it was about that stupid word, or hearing it from two of the people whose opinion she was just beginning to realize mattered most to her…it just seemed wrong, yet somehow a gift too, one she couldn't return.

She was trying to think of an acceptable answer, but Cordelia kept talking, her hand still on Faith's arm, and then there was so much more to think about, so much more to sort through in her mind that she had to let herself look up at her.

"Faith…I know we don't' talk about any of this kind of stuff…because let's face it, it's weird and awkward, and we aren't exactly the types to go around giving huge compliments and being all lovey dovey and sappy and sickening," Cordelia began again, "but…you know what, there's no one else here, our reputations as bitches and badasses will survive the experience just this once. And if they don't…well, I don't care. Because I don't think you know these things…and I think you need to."

Her eyes averted briefly, and she swallowed, steeling herself, or perhaps simply taking a moment to gather her thoughts, before she looked at Faith again, her voice low, serious, and steady as she continued.

"What you've done for us…for me…the past few months…I really appreciate it, Faith. You've never said a word to anyone about my parents, even though it would have been easier…even though YOU would have had it easier. You could have stayed with anyone, gone anywhere, got more money from Wesley, and you didn't…I don't think you even thought about it. You chose me…you chose to stick with me, and that…no one's really done that for me before. And it means a lot to me."

She breathed in again, and her grip on Faith's arm tightened when she resumed.

"And all the other things…getting me that dress when I didn't really need or have to have it, just because you thought I'd want it…taking care of dishes and cleaning if you get home first, and cooking, even if you did burn the first three meals or so…and how you do errands at night for me when the vampires are out, and just…how you're never talking about my parents, unless I want to, and then you just listen, and do whatever you think I want you to, even if I'm yelling or crying or whatever. And you never pushed Xander or anyone else on me, but somehow…it's better with them, and I think it's because of you, somehow. And how you're just…you're trying so hard, Faith, with everything, really working hard to be better, with training and getting along with people, and all that stuff with Earl and your soul, getting over crap from the past and even this stuff with school, trying to make it where you can get a decent job….and when that stuff happened with Spike, and you being hurt…"

She paused again, letting out another slow breath. "Faith… I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm proud of you. It scared the hell out of me to think I could lose you…because…I kinda love you, you dork."

It was a lot to take in, a lot to follow…and for Cordy to have said all this, to admit to feeling all this…for Cordelia to be proud of her, like Earl was, for Cordelia…for Cordelia to say she loved her. Cordelia had said she loved her, in a tone as soft and sincere as Faith had ever heard, even if she'd added a light insult to soften it. And as Faith sat nearly dumbfounded, she found herself slowly sitting up straighter, squaring her shoulders and turning to face Cordelia, determined to give her a gift equaling what she had just received. If Cordelia could say all that, then Faith damn well could tell her what she felt…because Cordelia deserved to hear.

"Cor…you've done a lot too. For me," she began, and she found that once she started to speak, it grew easier, as if her first words had segued a pathway to her eventual conclusion.

"I mean…all this time, you've been…hell, you basically provided for me, financially, even when you knew I couldn't pay you back. You could have let me go stay with Giles, or Buffy…before what happened with your house, AND after, even when you literally couldn't afford me. Before, you barely knew or liked me, and you still had me come stay at your place, even though no one expected you to, just because you thought it was the right thing to do. Now…I can't work, I can only give towards rent and food whatever money I get from Wesley. You've been supporting me, and you didn't complain about it. You complain about plenty of other things," she added with a smirk, "but not that."

"When I think about it…Cor, you've had so much to adjust to…you've had to change your whole way of life, and you did it. You had to quit cheerleading so you could get more hours in at work, and still keep up your grades too, and I know how much you hated having to do that…but you never rubbed my face in it. You still researched when we needed it, even with all you had to do, when that was the last thing you probably wanted to do in your free time. You learned to clean and buy and choose cheap brands, and you ate my food if it wasn't a total mess, and stayed up for me to talk or bandage me up after patrols…"

It was all flooding back so rapidly into her thoughts then, all that Cordelia was, all she had done for her, that Faith stopped, pressing her lips together in a thin line in an effort to slow herself. She felt surprisingly emotional, her heartbeat speeding, and let out a measured breath before she looked up at Cordelia again.

"You stood up for me…against Giles and Wesley and Buffy, Willow, everyone, really…and no one's every really done that for me before. You listened to me…and made me talk, even when I didn't want to…shit, you HELD me, when I was hurt, or…upset…and woke me up when I had nightmares and never made me tell you what they were about. God, how many people would hear me yelling and see me shaking so bad I couldn't talk, and then not make me say why?" Faith asked rhetorically, her voice rising slightly as she shook her head in reply to her own question.

"You…Cor….you just…understood. Or tried to, anyway, really tried…and…you're my friend, and I've never really had one. I guess really you're my family too…at least, closest I've got. More than a friend, because Buffy and the rest, they're friends, now anyway. But you…you're more. And I guess…I guess I'm proud of you too. And I kinda love you too…Princess."

The last word was added on after a few beats' pause with a smirk and teasing tone, Faith's attempt to lighten the heaviness of her words. As she had hoped, her tactic worked- though Cordelia may have instantly jumped on the nickname in a deliberate effort to detract from the seriousness of the moment too.

"I am NOT a princess!" she growled, narrowing her eyes in apparent irritation. "You just SAID about me cleaning and working and buying cheap stuff, I am SO not a princess…anymore, anyway. Buffy is the princess."

"You both like girly dresses, high heels, and manicures, and gripe when you get demon blood on your clothes or screw up said manicure, sounds like a princess to me," Faith asserted, her smirk edging closer to a grin, and Cordelia scowled, eyebrows drawing together, but Faith could tell she was trying not to smile.

"Well I can't AFFORD to get new clothes or redo my nails every time a demon decides to bleed on them anymore, what's Buffy's excuse? I am NOT a princess, I am just comfortable with the fact that I'm female and willing to use it to my fullest advantage, unlike some people," Cordelia said pointedly as she stared directly at Faith, obvious in her implication.

Faith's dimples flashed into view as she ran her hands suggestively over her sides, brushing the sides of her breasts deliberately.

"Oh, I'm very comfortable being female," she replied huskily, and though Cordelia rolled her eyes, huffing, Faith watched as her eyes involuntarily followed her hands.

"THAT was not a "I'm comfortable being female," move, that was a "I'm a skanky ho" move," Cordelia informed her.

Faith, still grinning, lifted her chin in her retaliation. "Better a skanky ho than a bitchy prude," she said, and when Cordelia shoved at her more playfully than irritably, Faith shoved her back lightly, though with her strength, it was still enough to knock Cordelia back into the couch cushions.

Cordelia, squawking, grabbed up one of the pillows behind herself, hitting Faith, and from that point on the girls were caught in a tangle of pillows and limbs as Faith too grabbed a pillow, both attempting to block and hit each other at the same with, with Faith having the added challenge of trying to do so gently enough not to really hurt Cordelia. When they finally stopped, both were flushed, laughing, hair disheveled, and their legs and arms were touching casually. As the girl's laughter tapered off, they met each others' eyes…both were still smiling, but a seriousness grew between them as before.

Finally Cordelia shifted herself closer, her voice soft as she let her leg rest more fully against Faith's, and Faith swallowed, warm all over at the touch.

"Faith," she began, and though her voice was hesitant at first, she quickly straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, increasing the confidence of her tone. "Like I said, I don't really know yet what I think or feel about us…well, doing stuff. But again, like I said…I'm not really NOT wanting to…and I guess I can't know if I DO want to…unless we try it again a time or two. Right?"

Faith stilled, her mouth suddenly dry, and she narrowed her eyes at Cordelia, not quite sure she understood correctly what she seemed to be asking of her.

"Are you saying-" she started, and Cordelia nodded, not letting her finish the sentence.

"I'm saying…I wouldn't mind trying again…just to see what happens. It's not a promise, or proposal, or agreement to be suck-face totally lesbian lovers until the end of time," she rolled her eyes, shrugging. "It's just…a fair assessment. Because let's face it, the last time was on impulse, lasted two seconds, and got interrupted. This time would be planned, private, and practice…and if we don't want it to, it can mean nothing at all. So…what do you say? Want to see how it goes, one time?"

Though her tone remained nonchalant, something in Cordelia's eyes seemed softer than she let on, as if Faith's reply mean more to her than she wanted her to know…and so Faith, finding no words to convey her thoughts, simply paused, swallowing one last time before closing her eyes, slowly circling Cordelia's shoulders with her arm, and leaning forward to meet her lips with her own.

The kiss was slow, tentative, and soft at first, and Faith let Cordelia take the lead, giving her room to pull back if she wished. But when Cordelia slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer and kissing her again with firmer pressure, Faith let herself fall into the moment, thinking distantly that Cordelia didn't need "practice" when she was already a pro.


	44. 44

"I know that you could keep me from the pain

But if not, I'll trust you

No matter what"

"No matter what," Kerrie Roberts

Faith had never really thought she'd ever actually be present for a graduation ceremony, seeing how she had dropped out of attending any public form of education when she was still in middle school. She had had few regrets over it- after all, what did she need to see the same sea of shapeless, ugly gowns and stupidly-shaped caps in person for when she could see any teen movie without having to make an effort? Every graduation day was the same- why did she need to witness one in person, let alone take part in one?

Only this graduation day, she knew, was definitely going to be the one to disprove this long-held theory. Caps and gowns it might have, and even tedium and dull speeches…but this would be one graduation ceremony that would end with a bang.

If all went according to plan, that is.

As Faith stood back in the distance, a good ways apart from the sea of graduates and the few parents and spectators stubborn and stupid enough to attend despite their children's best efforts to warn them off, she thought with a faint smirk curving her lips of the irony that she, Faith, who now could proclaim herself to be the possessor of a GED, as of the Monday before, had in a sense "graduated" before any of the rest of them.

Her eyes scanned the platform before the graduates, roving briefly over the unfamiliar adults, excluding the Sunnydale principal, Snyder, of course, sitting on the stage, before coming to rest on the Mayor in his spot, her eyes narrowing, muscles tensing instinctively as she watched him. Though Snyder was speaking at the podium, giving his usual sour twist and beady-eyed glower to his every work, Wilkins was beaming, eyes twinkling with anticipant glee even from a distance, and Faith's fists balled as she shifted her weight to one foot, tearing her eyes away. This would work…it better, anyway, because it was the best and only plan they had.

Searching for Cordelia in the crowd, she located her standing one person away from the end of a row, her features set in an impatient glare in the Mayor's direction from profile. Faith smiled as Cordelia shrugged her hair back behind her shoulders, even as worry for her, even above the others, twisted uneasily in her heart.

Ever since their talk after prom, she had been aware of her relationship with Cordelia evolving again, deepening in a manner that was likely unnoticed by others, but to Faith, and she suspected Cordelia, very obvious. They were not a couple, nor were they truly working towards or considering being in a romantic or sexual relationship with each other. But since they had spoken aloud of the depth of their feelings for each other, it seemed that just to have them out in the open, no longer hidden or denied, somehow made them more real and intense, without anything needed to be said or done about it for them both to understand.

It wasn't as if they were sudden, as Cordy had put it, "suck-face lesbian lovers." In fact, Faith was fairly sure they would never be lovers at all, and she and Cordelia had only kissed a few times since their "practice" session, each time for a much briefer period than the first. But when Faith looked at Cordelia, she always seemed to know what was going through her mind just before she opened her mouth, and many times Cordelia had startled Faith by declaring exactly what Faith herself had just been thinking. They rarely touched each other in public, but when it was just the two of them, they found themselves unconsciously resting hands on the other girl's shoulder or back, brushing back a strand of hair, automatically leaning against her when sitting on the couch. Faith savored each time Cordelia absently ran her fingers through her hair, twining a wavy strand around her thumb, even if she was remarking on Faith's split ends , and she knew from the way Cordelia always automatically relaxed against her that she enjoyed being close.

It was nothing they openly discussed or acknowledged, and if they felt a real need to, Faith wouldn't have known how to put words to it. But even as she tried to not think very much about it, she knew she treasured it, and she could not stand to think of losing that today.

Well, it wasn't going to happen, that was all. If everyone watched their backs and did their assigned tasks the right way…well, they had some level of a chance of it turning out as they all hoped. And Faith, of course, had her own role- one she planned on enjoying as much as possible in the moment, even if by some screw up she didn't survive it.

This was more than an offensive…this was payback.

Glancing over at Giles, squatted down beside her partly to keep out of view, partly to guard the device he would need to carry out his task in their plan of attack, Faith met his eyes, then those of the fidgety, tense Wesley beside him, smiling. Only Giles smiled back. She included Angel in her comment as well, though he was standing a greater distance back from them, from the inside of Oz's van and camouflaged from the sun with a trenchcoat, turned up collar, and ridiculous hat that she thought made him look rather like a pedo flasher. She hoped like hell he'd strip that off when the anticipated eclipse came…or maybe not, if he distracted their adversaries by making them laugh themselves to death. But then, she guessed, it was just a good thing he was here to help at all, even if he would look totally stupid doing it.

And he still totally owed her for the fact that he was.

"Ready to blow this joint to the moon?" she asked with a quick grin. "Hope the Martians like demon parts…maybe they can fry them up, invent a new wacky Martian delicacy. Shiske-Mayor!"

"I don't think, Faith, that anything short of a full sized rocket with a proper launcher would be capable of generating enough forcefulness to penetrate the earth's atmosphere, and certainly without a specific direction and steering it is most unlikely to end up on the moon," Wesley informed her seriously. "Furthermore, if Martians truly exist, and there is little evidence of this, they would live on Mars, not the moon-"

"Wes," Faith interrupted, rolling her eyes, and giving a slightly dramaticized sigh, "just go with the flow…and the blow," she snickered.

As her eyes drifted down to the highly powerful dynamite plunger at Giles's feet, a plunger that happened to snake all the way around to the high school library, which at this moment was stocked with as much dynamite, fertilizer, and metal drums as they could manage, she smiled again. Whatever was gonna happen today, they'd go down swinging- and it would be one hell of a show.

It had started with the article in the newspaper. Faith hadn't known Buffy even read anything other than Cosmopolitan, but the minute she'd walked through the library doors once Buffy's classes were out for the day, intending to check in with her about patrol later that night, Buffy had waved the paper under her nose, jabbing at one of the articles on the front page grimly.

"Read this," she told her, and Faith, raising an eyebrow, had taken the paper, skimming it quickly.

"Professor killed in his home, marks on neck, blood loss…sounds like he let a vamp in. So?"

"See the part about the doll?" Buffy prodded, gesturing with some impatience, and Faith looked over it again, finding the section she was talking about and then shrugging, mystified.

"Oh, yeah, something about a doll by the body with a gag and blindfold…weird. What, you think it's a vampire kid or something?"

"Does the name Drusilla ring a bell?" Buffy asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow herself and crossing her arms.

Faith looked at her blankly. What was the blondie going on about now?

"Uh, no, actually. Is it supposed to?"

"Drusilla is a vampire of great strength and skill and considerable fame," Wesley piped up from where he stood nearby, listening to their exchange and straightening his shoulders as he spoke, though his expression remained troubled. It always amused Faith to see that even now, he still puffed p a little when given opportunity to share knowledge he had found or possessed that others did not. "Sired by the vampire Angelus in the nineteenth century, formerly a pure and virtuous maiden with every intention of becoming-"

"I suppose we never spoke of Drusilla with you before, Faith- our encounters with her were limited to before your arrival," Giles thankfully interrupted him before he could go into full lecture mode, but there was one part of Wesley's brief history soundbite that caught Faith's attention.

"Sired by Angelus- you mean ANGEL? You think some vamp Angel created killed this guy?" she asked with some surprise, gesturing towards the article again.

Buffy sighed, her features tensing as she nodded. Though she tried not to show it, every time Angel's name was mentioned she got a sad sort of look about her, a stiffness to how she held herself, and her voice was a little strained too as she replied.

"Yes…Dru, she's not exactly what you could call predictable…or sane…but the dolls, we've seen that before. That for her is basically a signed confession…or brag."

Her brow furrowing, Faith glanced between the other three, shifting her weight as she crossed her arms in an unconscious mirror of Buffy.

"Why would she do that? She wants you to know she's back- then why doesn't she just come after you?"

"My guess is she's got a plan, and this is just the first step," Buffy exhaled. "Leaving the doll is like a declaration of war…what I'm not getting is why that guy, Harmless Professor, in his house, and no one else, not some random people on the bus or in the streets or in a bar? Or even one of us. Is it some random, crazy Drusilla thing, or is there a real reason for it? Was there a reason she would want him in particular to die?"

Since Faith had never met this Drusilla in her life or even heard about her until two minutes ago, hell if she knew. She shrugged, giving Buffy a quick smile.

"Only one way to find out. Got his address? We can check the place out before patrol tonight."

"Check it out- would that be breaking and entering?" Wesley asked with some worry, and when the girls and Giles gave him the same slightly exasperated look simultaneously, he amended, "Er, sounds like a necessary plan…though it would be wise to be careful, should any police surveillance be lingering about."

"Well, THAT'S no worry, the police free crime scenes almost as fast as the criminals around here," Buffy quipped, but when she looked back at Faith, her eyes remained serious, and she seemed hesitant to say what next emerged. "Faith…he's right about one thing, though. Drusilla was sired by Angelus…and she's not just any ordinary vampire."

At the soberness of Buffy's tone, joined with her reaching out to lightly rest a hand on Faith's arm, Faith frowned, dread closing around her heart. She knew there was something Buffy was keeping back, something awful about this Drusilla…maybe even something personal to her.

"How bad is this, B?" she asked quietly. "I mean, we have the Ascension in a few days on one hand, and still no clue what to do with it…how bad is this Drusilla in comparison?"

"Well…she's crazier than that Heaven's Gate cult guy, gets a lot more pleasure out of blood and gore, almost ended the world a few times, and she has some precognitive powers- and apparently, she can hypnotize people too. And…she killed Kendra, the Slayer that was called before you," Buffy said quietly, but even with all of this, Faith knew she was holding back, knew there was still more and worse, even before she added the final blow.

"Faith…Drusilla was Spike's girlfriend. So if she found out he's dead…hooked up with the Mayor somehow…there's no telling what she has planned."

At this piece of information, a slow chill rolled through her spine, and her nails bit slowly into her arms as she met Buffy's eyes. "Sunset then…tonight."

88888888888888888

Professor Worth's apartment had been a bloody mess, no less than expected, but Faith and Buffy had, as they searched, attempting all the while to avoid the smears and pools of blood or to look long at the poor man's body, been unable to find much in the way of an explanation of why Drusilla would choose to kill him in particular, or why he may have invited her in. Buffy had found a journal article mentioning the man, and some excavation dig of his from the summer before, and she decided to take it back with them. She didn't know if it meant anything, but she figured that Giles could puzzle through any additional information they could get about the man, his life, and recent actions of his to see if they would deduce why Drusilla would come after him particularly.

Faith felt privately that it would be a stretch, but said nothing, instead focusing her energy on remaining totally alert to any sudden noises or movements that might crop up nearby. Seeing Drusilla's creepy doll beside the old man's body, gagged and blinded as the article had described, was unsettling to the point that she felt as if Drusilla herself was lingering on the scene, ready to lock her in with her mumbo-jumbo Slayer-killing powers, just before making another corpse apparently too ghostly for even her dolls to be allowed to see or speak of.

Spike's ex…figures. Only Faith could find a way to be tortured by a Slayer-killing vampire who also had a Slayer-killing and pissed off ex.

They were exiting the professor's home and stepping out into the street's sidewalk when Angel appeared as silently as usual in front of them, his eyes skimming past Faith to Buffy alone as he called out her name, continuing towards her. Beside Faith, Buffy's jaw tensed, and though they were not touching, Faith felt her entire frame go rigid as she greeted him in a rather strained tone.

"Angel…what are you doing here?"

"I heard about the murder here, and the doll…Drusilla," he said, concern heavily creasing his brow as he stopped just short of her, somehow managing to convey equal measures of awkwardness and protectiveness in his stance. "If she's back- I thought you might need back-up, just to be safe."

Faith smirked to herself slightly. It seemed to her like Angel was always mysteriously "hearing" things while lurking in shadows. Either he blended in so well he often stood around without anyone noticing, or he was one nosy guy, and she suspected both. As her eyes slid over to Buffy, however, she doubted the blonde would take this particular incident of spying very well.

It was true that from what she had observed, anyway, Buffy and Angel had got along at prom, when he had showed up to be her escort despite their breakup. Afterward, though, they had reverted to the same stiff awkward avoidance that had characterized them before, with Angel coming around the library only briefly, to get updates of offer assistance, all the while barely looking at or speaking to Buffy. Faith knew this to be Buffy's decision and preference more or as much as his, but that didn't mean she or he was really happy about the necessary distance, both physically and mentally, between them. She saw the lingering, if controlled, pain in Buffy's eyes every time he was near, watched the way her mood plummeted once he was gone, and now with Angel here before them closer than he had been in some time, and also addressing them, Faith could expect no less than continued strain, if not outright sparks.

Her prediction was immediately validated as Buffy lifted her chin, her words taut and verging on angry as she met his eyes, stepping slightly in front of Faith without looking at her, almost brushing her aside. The way she and Angel were focusing on each other, it was practically as if she wasn't' there, and she wouldn't be surprised if they had gotten her even with her standing there. The way they managed to block out everyone and everything in the world when they were around each other was impressive…and often infuriating. But right now, she'd cut Buffy some slack, because Faith couldn't say she would want her ex who broke her heart following her around either.

"We back each other up, Angel, it's not necessary. Or wanted," Buffy informed him pointedly, one hand on her hip, and Angel held out a hand neither extended nor gesturing as he countered her.

"Buffy…it very well could be necessary, and even if it wasn't, it's the safe and smart thing to do. We don't know what the Mayor might have planned, such a short time before the Ascension- he might try to take out any people left that have the slightest chance of finding a way to stop it, and that means you. And now with Drusilla back in town…it can't hurt to have another person helping look out for you."

"Yes, actually it could," Buffy said clearly and with meaning, staring him in the eye. "It could hurt a lot."

At this near accusation, Angel flinched, looking away, and then sighed, before looking back at her, his voice softer now, apologetic, but still carrying an edge of determination. He and Buffy still had yet to acknowledge Faith's presence, or really notice it, and this hardly seemed the kind of conversation she could jump in on. Damn it…knowing those two, this could end up becoming a melodramatic meltdown ending in trauma and tears, or else a manic makeout session…and honestly Faith didn't know which would be worse.

"Buffy…let's be logical about this," Angel began, but those were not the best words to use. Buffy immediately took the bait, stepping forward in an aggressive fashion as her voice rose in incredulous growing anger.

"Be LOGICAL- let's be LOGICAL about this? You think it's LOGICAL that we could break up- that we could have all this pain, and all these memories, and we're supposed to just ignore it all, just block it out and pretend it never happened- you think that's LOGICAL?"

"Buffy, listen," Angel began, but Buffy was on a roll now. Shaking her head fiercely, face flushing, every muscle tensed with her frustrated fury, her voice rose in pitch and volume as she continued.

"No, Angel, YOU listen! It can't be like that! You can't…we can't break up, and you tell me you're leaving town, and we'll never see each other again, not even as FRIENDS, and then not GO, then just- you can't keep popping in and out of my life whenever you want, close then far, however it suits you, because that's how YOU like it, I don't work like that! If you're out of my life, then get OUT of my life- I don't need protection, I have Faith for backup, and I will NOT be the joint custody kid you see on weekends!"

Well, Faith wasn't totally forgotten anyway…but if her name was starting to crop into it, that was probably her cue to go.

"Uh, you guys seem like you have a lot to talk about, and we're pretty much finished up for the night, here, B, so why don't I just go and let you guys hash things out- "Faith tried, but Buffy wouldn't let her off that easily. Snagging her by the arm, she shook her head vehemently, maintaining a tight grip.

"No! No, BOTH of us are leaving, we were just-"

"Buffy, come on now," Angel said with some irritability in his own tone, and Buffy almost shouted back at him, her head swiveling, fingers digging into Faith's arm.

"Angel, if we're not together, then we can't BE together…so please, just GO AWAY!"

When Angel's mouth opened, his eyes almost bulging just after she spoke, Faith thought at first he was just reacting with shock to the harshness of Buffy's reply. But when the blood bubbled over his lips, his knees buckled beneath him, and her eyes fell to the tip of the arrow protruding through his chest, she realized the truth. Angel had been shot.

As Buffy gasped, then began to nearly scream out her shocked exclamations, as she and Faith hurried to support his weight to keep him from collapsing to the sidewalk, Faith's eyes lifted upward, past Buffy, past Angel, to the roof of the Sunnydale Cinema, to where a slim, dark-haired woman with delicate features, mad eyes, and a beaming smile stood holding a bow still aimed in their direction.

As Faith met her eyes, the woman smiled, distinctly mouthing one phrase before backing into the shadows.

"Goodbye, Daddy."


	45. 45

"Am I more than flesh and bone?  
Am I really something beautiful?  
Yeah, I want to believe, I want to believe that  
I'm not just some wandering soul  
That you don't see and you don't know  
Yeah, I want to believe, Jesus help me believe  
That I am someone worth dying for"

"Someone worth dying for," Mikeschair

"There has to be another way," Buffy said tersely, her hazel eyes narrowed, as she paused in her circular pacing of Giles's too-crowded living room to look Willow straight in the eyes, her statement almost a demand. "There HAS to be, Willow."

She had been increasingly tense as time passed, to the point that she now looked and sounded so grim and ready to snap at the slightest frustration or disturbance, likely in a violent manner, that everyone around her, Faith included, had been very careful in how they spoke to her, trying to keep her as calm as possible. But the longer they remained here, and the more Angel suffered, the closer he drew to death, the less they could do to settle her- and Faith knew even at a glance how little it would take then to set Buffy off.

Ever since she and Buffy had dragged Angel's weakened form between them to Giles's house, his arms propped over their shoulders, literal dead weight, and set him on the bed of Giles's guest room, they had watched him shaking and sweating, his condition not improving despite their removal of the arrow and cleansing and dressing the wound it left behind. They had not understood it- why would Angel seem so badly effected when he was a vampire, and should have been already healing- and certainly not hallucinating and growing delirious. If he were human, they would have thought he was in shock, or feverish- but he wasn't, so what was wrong with him?

Giles too had been concerned enough to hit the books, and while Faith and Buffy attended to Angel, with Faith sticking around to watch Buffy and try to keep her calm as much as anything else, Giles had come across a text that he was convinced described Angel's condition. Angel, he diagnosed, had been poisoned by a substance toxic to the undead, which likely had been coated over the arrow Drusilla had shot him with. If they didn't find a cure, he would die within 24 hours…and of course, hearing that prognosis, Buffy had found this to be entirely unacceptable. She had wasted no time in calling all the others over to Giles's place to research, and spent the time the others were reading pacing back and forth between Angel and them, snapping out at her friends increasingly frequently as her agitation grew. Faith's eyes were beginning to burn from straining to read tiny text and make sense of the old-fashioned language, and she had the feeling that at this point, even if a cure for Angel was plainly spelled out right under her nose, she'd skim right over it, and the others probably would too.

But then Willow had spoken up soberly, finally coming across the diligently searched for cure…only it wasn't one anyone had hoped to hear at all.

"Buffy," Willow said gently, grimacing with empathy for her friend even as she didn't back down from her words. "Buffy, there isn't another way. It says right here, that's the only cure. I'm sorry-"

"No," Buffy said flatly, and her voice was final in tone, as if she could change the facts by will. "They are wrong, then. They haven't even tried to cure it very often, because normally no one cares about a vampire dying, so how do they know it's the only cure? Keep looking- there has to be another way."

Faith snuck a glance at Willow, then Cordelia beside her, and knew from a glance at Cordy that whatever sympathy she might have for Buffy, the other girl wasn't willing to spend time and effort looking for a cure that didn't exist for a man she harbored complex feelings towards in the first place…and as she looked over to Xander, Oz, and Wesley, it was clear to her that they too, especially Xander, who had a pretty avid animosity towards him anyway, seemed to agree.

"It's been hours, Buffy," Giles said quietly, touching his glasses absently as he faced her. "I think we all realize that Angel has been steadily declining-"

"Which is why you need to look faster," Buffy said harshly, her voice rising slightly, and Cordelia lifted an eyebrow, adding her own comments to the mix.

"Buffy, if we looked any faster, we'd be flipping pages without reading them," she informed her pointedly, and Xander muttered loud enough for Faith to hear, "Yeah, and I'm already doing that almost."

"Buffy," Wesley spoke up from where he was seated at Giles's counter, and before he said two words Faith could already see that even his best effort wouldn't' go over well. "We are all sorry for your impending loss, but really…with Drusilla back in the area, and the Mayor's Ascension still as of yet without a plan of stopping or fighting it within our possession, those should be our current focus. I would not at all be surprised if the Mayor planned both the death of that man and the usage of Drusilla's hurting Angel simply to halt you from going after him. He is playing with you, I would wager, and you-"

Not that she was about to say it in front of Buffy, but Faith at least partly agreed with Wes, at least about the Mayor probably being involved and his motives, and she had to admit it was a smart move. As long as everyone focused on Angel now, they couldn't focus on the Ascension, and if Buffy was grieving on graduation day, she couldn't' focus enough to be a decent adversary. But Buffy, of course, was less than thrilled by Wesley's words…and in fact, as she stepped towards him in an almost threatening manner, Wesley swallowed, cutting himself off from completing his sentence.

"There will be no loss," she stated in a rather dangerous tone, her eyes stony. "We will find another cure. And that's all there is to it."

The others were silent for a few moments, exchanging glances again, before Willow bit the bullet, taking a deep breath.

"Buffy…there isn't one. I'm sorry…but that's what it says, and in all this time we haven't found anything to dispute it. The only way to cure Angel would be to have him drain the blood of a Slayer…and of course, we can't do that." She paused, then lowered her voice, though she didn't move towards her. "I'm sorry."

Faith watched as pain slowly stiffened each of Buffy's features, rising starkly in her eyes, and she wondered with discomfort if she should go to her, touch her…but then Buffy lifted her chin, her eyes hardening, and Faith's stomach sank with her sudden certainty of the decision the other girl had just made.

"If that's the only cure, then that's what we'll do…that's what I'll do. And I'm ready."

She turned partially, as though to make her way back to Angel, as Xander made a disbelieving exclamation, almost sputtering. "Wait a minute, Buffy- you're going to let him DRAIN you? Of your BLOOD?"

"If that's what it takes," Buffy answered grimly, barely turning her head, and Cordelia too voiced her incredulity.

"You have GOT to be kidding me!"

"Buffy," Giles started, stepping towards her, "I realize you are upset, and with good cause. But let's be reasonable-"

"I don't' care about reason!" Buffy nearly screamed, and the rage combined with the vivid flash of grief in the surface of her eyes, clearly visible to the others, was enough to stop them from speaking for the moment, just watching her with pained near helplessness. "I will not sit back and watch my lover die," she added in a controlled near whisper, and though her voice was soft, Faith saw the faint tremble in her hands before she balled them into fists. "There's no reason involved in it…that is just a fact."

She looked at each person deliberately in turn, as if daring them to stop her, before turning again, beginning to walk down the hallway to Angel's room. A few moments passed with no one making a move…but then into Faith's mind flashed an idea, a possibility that no one else seemed to have considered, and she got to her feet, catching up to Buffy and grabbing her arm.

"Alright, B, there's no way I'm letting you do this," she said, and Buffy's jaw set as she yanked her arm from her grasp, her voice cold, challenging.

"Try and stop me," she stated, and though Faith didn't' try to touch her again, she stepped partly in front of her, angling herself in such a way that she could block her path if needed.

"I'm not gonna," she assured her, shrugging one shoulder. "I know how that would go. But I am gonna help you."

Buffy had not been expecting this, and for a few moments she was taken aback, blinking several times before saying abruptly, "What are you talking about? Help me how?"

Faith shrugged again, developing the idea as she spoke, shifting slightly more in front of Buffy.

"Willow said Angel would need to drain a Slayer to be cured. Yeah, well, whenever that was written, they were going off the idea of there ever only being one Slayer, right? So if there was only one they'd have to fully drain her. Well, there's two of us now…and if he half drained each of us, that equals one fully drained Slayer." She paused, holding Buffy's gaze, before continuing.

"So there wouldn't be a need for anyone to do anything stupid. We each give half, get a little woozy, maybe, but since we're Slayers, we'd be okay. Maybe get a blood transfusion after if someone can figure out how to give them. No one has to lose all their blood and no one has to die. Sounds to me like the best plan of the day."

Buffy's brow furrowed as she scrutinized the other girl's face, assessing her level of seriousness.

"You would do that?" she asked, and though her tone was still abrupt, her eyes were slightly softer. "You would let him drink from you?"

"Well, it's not like I'm turning cartwheels at the thought," Faith's lips quirked slightly. "But it beats watching you feed yourself to him…and seriously, B, you think we'd let you kill yourself for him and then watch him walk around alive while you aren't, without someone having an "accident" with a stake?"

Buffy didn't smile, but Faith could tell watching her that she was considering her words. Finally she nodded.

"Okay then. Thank you. Let's go."

"Wait a minute, WHAT?" Xander blurted, and Willow, Giles, and Wesley all spoke at once.

"Faith- how would you-"

"I'm not certain this would be a good idea-"

"The effects of even a partial loss of blood-"

But it was Cordelia who got to her feet so hastily she almost knocked over the coffee table, made her way to the Slayers, and seized Faith's arm less than gently, almost hissing the words that were without a doubt a command rather than a request as her eyes nearly bore a hole through her with their fierce intensity.

"Okay, before you both offer yourself up as bloody sacrifices, take one friggin' second to stop and think with your brains instead of your bleeding hearts or sex drives or overdeveloped martyr complexes, or whatever the hell is up…and Faith, come with me for a minute. Now."

She didn't wait for a reply before yanking Faith with her into the closest room, which happened to be a bathroom. Flipping on the light switch, she wasted no time in grabbing the shorter girl by her shoulders and sticking her face close as her voice raised to a near screech.

"Are you insane? You would let Angel stick his fangs into your throat and DRINK from you? And not just a sip, not just a gulp, but half the blood in your body? What the hell is wrong with you two?"

"I'm not insane, Buffy is," Faith said, keeping her voice calm and not trying to remove Cordelia's hands from her, though the girls' fingernails were on the verge of tearing her shirt. Instead she looked up at her steadily, attempting to reassure her. "You heard her, she's ready to feed herself to him, and if she got pissed enough she'd fight us all, and I don't know if I could stop her without someone getting hurt. We'd both be okay only half drained. I mean, hell, I got beat half to death and I'm practically good as new, a little blood loss is nothing."

"A little blood loss?" Cordelia sputtered, but Faith talked over her, putting her hands over Cordelia's and squeezing gently.

"I'm not gonna watch her do that to herself, Cor. Neither one of them would survive it because I swear I'd kill Angel after. This way everyone lives. B can do it first, I'll pull him off her when she starts getting faint, we'll wait a while, see if he's any better, rest her up, and then I'll go. It'll be all right," she said softly, stroking Cordelia's thumbs, even as she tried not to think about how it might feel for Angel's fangs to pierce her skin, of her heightened pulse driving his thirst, of other vampires' gleaming grins just before breaking her Watcher's skin, other vampires pressing their larger bodies against hers…

That was then…this was now, this was under her control. This was for Buffy, and Faith would not lose herself in what had been…no, she would do now what she had to do.

Cordelia swallowed, then slowly loosened her hands on Faith's shoulders. Her fear glistened in the surface of her eyes as she spoke, beyond her ability to control.

"If he doesn't stop," she said softly, "if we can't pull him off of you…Faith, what if he loses it and tries to turn you? I've SEEN Angel when he's…not Angel. I've seen what he can do…what he's capable of. Sometimes I still dream of the things he did…that Angelus is back….stalking us all, just because he ENJOYS it. I know Buffy can write it off…but me, I'll never forget. What if…"

She let her words trail off, her eyes skipping away, and Faith took her cheek against the palm of her hand, not turning her face towards her, but simply resting it there, a source of physical contact and reassurance.

"Cor…I might not trust Angel, not with my life, anyway, but I trust you," she replied quietly. "And I know if you had to cut off his head with a nail file, you wouldn't let that happen."

She paused, still holding Cordelia's face in one hand, then added more lightly, "Look, I'm not a big Angel fan, what with the Buffy boinkage nastiness and the fact that he's, you know, one of the things I'm supposed to be slaying, but he did have my back a few times, and…Cor, he might not be my favorite guy in the world, or yours, but he's not evil."

"At the moment," Cordelia clarified, and Faith smiled ruefully, acknowledging with a brief eye roll.

"Yeah, at the moment, fine. But think about it like this, Cor. If nothing else, we're gonna need his help dealing with the Ascension, and Buffy's too. If they're both dead, or if even Angel is dead but Buffy's walking around a total zombie, how the hell are we going to take down the Mayor? We need all the people we can get, and they all need to be sane and ALIVE. Think about it as doing it to save our own asses," she concluded, and when Cordelia said nothing, her jaw tensed, Faith squeezed her shoulders.

"You're not gonna lose me, Cor…I promise."

She grinned then, adding in a teasing manner, "I just got my friggin' GRE, you think I'm gonna let those painful hours I could've been out on the town go to waste?"

Finally Cordelia laughed, her features relaxing as she turned her eyes back to her, remarking with a smirk of her own. "Not to mention, it's your turn to clean the bathroom…and who would cook me dinner that doesn't consist of cereal?"

She tried to hold a scowl for a moment, but she couldn't do it. In an abrupt and slightly uncoordinated gesture, she rested one hand against Faith's waist, the other against her face, and leaned in to kiss her briefly, but with a firmness that left Faith slightly stunned, her lips tingling with Cordelia pulled back.

"You're damn right," she said deliberately and with feeling. "I'm not going to lose you."

Without waiting to see Faith's reaction, she took her by the arm and tugged her out of the bathroom to join the others in the living room. As they all looked up, Buffy appearing to have been impatiently pacing, Cordelia declared to her, "You and Mr. Fangy SO owe her for this."

"So you'll-" Buffy started, her head swiveling to Faith quickly, and Faith nodded.

"Yeah. I will…Giles, Wes, whoever, call the blood banks, just in case one or both of us end up needing a transfusion, no one wants to screw with the hospital if we don't have to. One of you could figure out how to do one if we needed it, right? I don't know about equipment- Will, can you look online and see, maybe we've got similar stuff around here. If not, it's not like you guys never took stuff before…my blood type is O negative, B, do you know yours?"

888888888888888

The procedure required to save Angel had gone about as well as could be expected. As Faith had indicated, Buffy went first, with Faith and the men standing nearby, watching closely. When Buffy's face grew pale and her body began to sag, Faith had ripped Angel away from her, leading her to lie down on Giles's couch to recover. Fifteen minutes later Faith thought Angel looked stronger and healthier; at any rate he wasn't sweating or hallucinating. Buffy too, after a drink of orange juice and Giles carefully setting up the IV for her blood transfusion, which she insisted was unneeded to no avail, looked considerably better.

After another twenty minutes of monitoring both Angel and Buffy, it had been Faith's turn and she had stepped up to him, offering her throat to him in seeming nonchalance even as her stomach hollowed and she knew Angel, even if no one else, could hear the speed and volume of her heartbeat. With the sharp stinging pain of his bite and the dizzying, helpless sensation of her blood being drawn out of her, it would have been easy to panic, to let herself be overtaken by visualizations and memories that she in no way wanted to re-experience. Diana's death, Kakistos's torment, her torture at the hands of Spike, even the very different sort of touch and pain brought to her long ago by human hands, pain shrouded in hushed whispers even as she suppressed her urge to scream. All of it came to mind in those first moments of Angel's bite, and she thought at first she would faint even before much blood was drawn.

But she fought to push it away…not to bury or to forget it, but to replace it. She thought of Buffy undergoing the same thing just before her, how she was standing directly beside her now, alive and well, her hands a solid pressure on Faith's shoulders, ready to pull her away when needed. She thought about Earl, and how he'd be proud of her for this…how he said Diana was proud of her too. And she thought of Cordelia…and it was this last envisioning of her best friend, her semi-more, that gave Faith focus and banished fear.

When Buffy finally pulled Angel off of Faith, he had been immediately remorseful and eager to compensate as he realized for the first time what he had done to the girls. Despite Buffy's assurance that both had offered themselves willingly, Angel had been so agitated at the sight of the bandage on her neck and the considerably paler Faith being lead to Giles's couch, where the others insisted she lay down, that he had started to leave the building entirely, undoubtedly to go find a nice dark corner to brood in. It had been Cordelia, snapping at him from where she sat with Faith's curled form on the couch, one protective hand on the top of her head unconsciously, who had set him straight.

"They didn't feed themselves to you just so you could go off and hide and call yourself a bad boy. We have a lot going to happen in a few days and so far our plan on dealing with that is to, well, make a plan. And if you're gonna be part of the plan, which you damn well better be after all this, sit down and do some planning!"

It had been about then that Buffy had remembered the article she had taken from the professor's place and handed it over to Giles to look over. After Faith's transfusion, Giles had read it, then began to flip excitedly through several books. One phone call to Anya, Xander's ex-demon sorta-girlfriend to bring her over, several books spread around him, and suddenly they had not only information, but the starting point of a plan.

The article, as it turned out, spoke of a large fossil buried by a lava eruption, discovered by Worth in his excavation. It was Giles's suspicion that the fossil was the same type of demon that the Mayor would become on his Ascension- and that this provided a clue as to the nature of how he could be killed once turned. With Anya's explanation of the nature of an Ascension- after all, she had lived through one- and the nature of the full-blooded demon the Mayor would likely become, it seemed clear to them that the Mayor had indeed recruited Drusilla to take out evidence- though he had apparently not realized that Drusilla, what with her lack of sanity, would leave the article behind. From that point on, the plan had formed, and as crazy as it sounded- and it was pretty near insane- Faith actually thought there was a chance it could work.

Anya had told them, shortly before taking off with no plans to return, that there would be an eclipse during the Ascension- and undoubtedly the Mayor's vampire cohorts would show up to try to take down the people the Mayor himself didn't, even if not by his specific instructions. From this, they had decided that the only way to defeat the Mayor was to meet him head on- with their own self-made army. When the eclipse came, Angel would help fight; Xander, Willow, Oz, and Cordelia would inform their classmates of what would go down, help them make up stories to keep away family, and provide them with weapons and instructions of attack against the Mayor and his minions, as well as get donations to buy a whole lot of fertilizer and dynamite. Each would have his or her own stationing and section of students to command, and while Buffy lead the overall battle and helped protect Giles until his part of the plan, someone would be the one responsible for getting the demon Mayor into the school, where, at the right moment, Giles would press the plunger to the dynamite, blowing up the school and hopefully the Mayor with it.

Of course, someone would have to figure out how to get the Mayor into the school, once the others in their combined efforts had managed to wound him and lessen the number of his minions, and also move fast enough to get out before it blew…this was one of the most dangerous roles of the entire improbable plan, one that could literally blow up in the face of whoever chose it. It required fast feet as well as thinking, and if one hesitated a moment too long, the entire thing could be ruined. It was a major responsibility, and an even greater risk…and yet Faith chose it with no hesitation, and little anxiety.

At any rate, it would be a new experience. She didn't usually get the role of bait.

8888888888888888888888

The night before graduation had been quiet, almost somber; the earlier excitement in the air as they made and then formed steps to carry out their plan of attack had diminished, and now a nervous anticipation had settled over Faith, and she suspected the others as well. They had all gathered one last time in the evening, reviewing their strategy, but also simply because they all knew very well that if anything went wrong, this could be the last evening where it was possible for them all to be together. they had parted ways with hugs rather than casual waves, with even Cordelia consenting to several people touching her shoulder or arm, if not outright embracing her. Faith suspected Willow and Oz, judging from their touchiness, would spend the night together, and even Buffy stayed in Giles's house rather than going home to an empty house.

As Cordelia drove Faith back to their apartment, both girls were subdued, and Faith found herself telling Cordelia about Earl, who had dropped in on her briefly before they headed over to Giles's.

As usual, Earl hadn't been one to hang around talking about nothing all day; he had appeared as Faith was gathering her weapons into a pile on the bed, separating between ones she thought would be helpful and ones people might just end up cutting themselves on.

"Hear you got a big day coming up," he had commented, and Faith, recognizing his voice without turning, had replied while still sorting.

"Yeah, apocalypse. Ever ask your pal God why he's so into those?"

"You'd have to take that one up with the darker forces," Earl had chuckled, leaning back against her wall and watching her. "God's got nothing to do with those. Most of the time, anyway."

"Well he sure doesn't do anything to stop them," Faith had snorted, standing and turning to face Earl with a stretch.

Earl lifted an eyebrow, regarding her pointedly. "He made you and others like you, didn't he?"

As Faith rolled her eyes, though she was smirking too, Earl continued, "The earth's still standing, isn't it? If God wanted to say game over, we're all gonna know it."

"So are you saying we'll be all right tomorrow?" Faith had prodded hopefully, but Earl had laughed, not taking the bait.

"Hey, even angels don't know when God's gonna finally say enough is a enough, girl. Could be tomorrow, sure. Could be in a million years too."

"You learn how to give cryptic bullshit from God too?" Faith smirked, but Earl just smiled, shifting the focus of the conversation.

"I hear you got your GED. Good going, girl."

"Yeah, well, kind of pointless if the world ends tomorrow," Faith hinted, sliding her eyes to gauge his reaction, still hoping for a clue, but Earl gave none. In fact, he changed the subject, shifting his weight slightly as he spoke in a tone too casual for Faith's suspicious ears.

"Seems you and Cordelia are pretty close lately," he started.

Immediately Faith's tone grew wary, even defensive, and she held up a hand.

"Okay, if you're gonna lecture me about homosexuality, one, I'm not gay, two, I'm not dating or screwing Cordy, three, your men in the Bible kissed each other all the time, go ask God to explain that one. That's one thing I got out of Catholic Sunday school, the times I actually went, those guys kissed and cried all the time. So if you're-"

"I'm not gonna lecture you about anything, Faith, I don't see a reason to," Earl interrupted, and when Faith narrowed doubtful eyes, he added, "I'm just thinking about how much you've learned about love."

As Faith scrunched up her nose, taken aback, Earl explained, "Take Cordelia, for one. You let her into your life and your heart, and you let her take you into hers too. That's no small thing, Faith, not from anyone, and especially not from you. You've formed mutually affectionate and healthy relationships with Buffy and her friends, where there was resentment and misunderstanding, and now they're your friends too, seeing you for the girl you are and not the girl you're hiding behind. You even literally risked your comfort and your neck for a vampire…literally, "he chuckled, as Faith rolled her eyes. "You've faced your fears and your grief, and the lying and sexual promiscuity has pretty much stopped entirely. There's the swearing, but something tells me that's a useless effort there," Earl smiled again before concluding, looking her in the eye. "You've grown, Faith. Grown up, and grown in."

Faith smiled back with some awkwardness, but pleasure as well, finding herself strangely happy to receive his compliments. Even so, she couldn't resist voicing the question still lingering in her mind.

"So you don't think…well, with Cordy-"

"Faith, you ever consider that maybe it wasn't just a lucky coincidence that you happened to need Cordelia's assistance just before she needed yours?" Earl asked, straightening from his leaned position, and as Faith frowned, not understanding, he clarified, "Life throws you two together, and you don't think it's more than chance? Miss Cordelia had some growing to do too, and there's no better way to do that than with a good friend, while learning HOW to be a friend."

"Are you saying…that me and Cor, you made- or you wanted-" Faith started incredulously, but Earl again cut her off, walking towards her door.

"Let's just say I'm not one to talk coincidence…go get rest, girl. And I'll see you later."

And that, his casual see you later, Faith took as a sign of their victory. Because whatever Earl said about not having a clue, would a guardian angel really say see you later if he didn't think there would be a later?

Faith hadn't told Cordelia any of this in detail, especially what Earl had said about her. But the "see you later" was shared and discussed, and Cordelia too had been encouraged by the implication.

Still, their serious mood had continued as they came home to their apartment and prepared for bed, so that they found themselves sitting together on the couch, arms around each other, head together, huddled into each other's side as they spoke together quietly, addressing any topic except the day awaiting them or the nebulous state of their own relationship. When they went to retire to their bedrooms, they had hugged so fiercely and for so long Faith felt her ribs strain against Cordelia's torso and swore she felt her heartbeat against her own. And she had slipped into her bed with the taste and feel of Cordelia's lips lingering against her own, unable to resist running her finger across them when she was alone.

Faith had found it difficult to sleep or even find a comfortable position, and she suspected Cordelia was having similar issues. Still, it came to a surprise when she heard her bedroom door open softly, and Cordelia's voice speaking in a whisper as she stepped hesitantly into the room.

"Faith? Are you awake?"

As Faith sat up, squinting her eyes to make her out in the darkness, Cordelia took another step towards the foot of her bed, still keeping her voice soft.

"Do you mind if we sleep together tonight?"

As Faith's eyebrows shot up, and her mouth opened, Cordelia quickly corrected her initial thought, scowling.

"Not THAT kind of sleep, you perve, jeez. But…I was just thinking, and I couldn't sleep…and if your Earl's got it wrong, and this is our last night alive…I don't' really want to spend it alone."

Her voice had dropped considerably by the last few words, and Faith heard the faint underscore of vulnerability to her tone, saw it in the shadows of her face. And if she were honest, she would have to say that she too preferred to pass the night with Cordelia nearby. It wasn't that she was afraid…but you didn't have to be afraid to like the comfort of someone close.

"Hop in, Nighttime Stalker," she smiled, pushing back her covers, and as Cordelia crawled beneath, shoving Faith first for the comment, they settled together in quiet, shoulder to shoulder, head to head, both gradually relaxing in mind and body until their breathing fell into gentle, even rhythm, carrying them to sleep.

When the woke in the morning, Faith's head was on Cordelia's shoulder, Cordelia's arm flung across Faith's chest, and they sat up with some awkwardness, but also genuine smiles. A few remarks were exchanged about snoring and covering hogging, as well as a few shoves, but they remained seated close, relaxed, and as they climbed out of bed, Faith felt good, confident.

She was ready to commit acts of violence and terrorism in the name of self-defense and saving lives…in other words, she was ready to graduate.


	46. 46

"This is a time to be strong

This is a time to rise up

To stand and be counted

This is a time to believe

To know that in God we are free"

"Stand," Rebecca St. James

Ten minutes after Snyder had stepped down from the podium to allow Mayor Wilkins to take center stage before the graduates, Faith's eyes were beginning to glaze over with her boredom, and she actually had to stifle a yawn. Unbelievably, the guy was actually giving a real graduation speech, as if he had no other plan than to give everyone their diplomas and go home. This was the day of his Ascension, the day he was supposed to become a full-blooded demon of the likes they had never seen before, a demon who could destroy the whole town…and he was up there cracking corny jokes and making comments about how good study habits and civil responsibility? How badly was he trying to torment them before he even got to the physical torture he was planning on?

"Is he trying to BORE us to death- is that the big Ascension plan?" she muttered under her breath to Giles and Wesley, who were still standing just behind her, even as she kept her narrowed gaze on the Mayor. "Because if he doesn't get some demon action going soon, I'm thinking you mistranslated, Bigshot British Brigade."

"No, I am certain of the validity of my interpretation," Wesley replied, taking her comment seriously. "I analyzed and compared each character to past known examples, and-"

"Just screwing with you, Wes," she cut him off, having no interest whatsoever in hearing a recount of specifics. "You ARE sure that the Ascension's supposed to be today, though, right- and at this specific time? Because otherwise-"

"Faith," Giles said quietly but intently, and as Faith looked back at him, surprised by both the interruption and his tone, she saw that his eyes were focused upward to the sky. "Look at the sun…it's starting."

As Faith followed the direction of his gaze, seeing the shadow slowly spread across the surface of the sun, blocking it first partly, then fully as darkness settled about them on all sides, she stood taller, her lips curving slightly even as her jaw set, her heart beating a rapid tattoo of excitement in her chest. She could see the other students in front of her looking up too, scattered gasps and gulps audible as they anticipated what was to come.

The Ascension was here…whether they were ready or not, it had come.

The students in the audience were already standing, preparing even before the Mayor's shift began. Looking upward to the now-darkened sky, he threw his head back, making an incoherent cry that echoed among them as he began to change. First a ripple shuddered through his body, starting at his feet and working its way up to his head; it seemed as though he were stretching upward as his entire body grew rigid and unnatural in posture, before the ripple reached his head, seeming to explode. His head enlarged, features twisted and misshapen, then burst open; it appeared then that the Mayor's human body was not changing itself so much as being shed, as the demonic body he was taking on rose out from it, leaving nothing but a pile of badly shredded clothing behind. As his demon self reared up and gave an ominous roar, Snyder, on the podium only a few feet away, stood frozen, making no move to retreat as heavy lines crisscrossed across his brow.

The Mayor's demonic form was that of a creature resembling a giant snake with rough ridges more like a dragon forming his skin, and both arms and legs that included sharp claws. He appeared to be about 30 feet long, with glinting yellow eyes, and when he opened his mouth, just before descending upon the now-lecturing Snyder and devouring him in one crunchy bite, Faith saw that he had extremely sharp fangs as long as her own forearm.

So this was what the Mayor wanted to see when he looked in the mirror…Faith herself, despite her distaste for polyester suits and cheesy grins, couldn't see the attraction. Then again, everyone always did say that politicians were snakes.

As the snake-mayor reared up again, eyes darting to regard its audience, there appeared out from seemingly all directions a near stampede of what clearly was his vampire henchmen, and dozens of their pals, heading straight for the sea of Sunnydale students, staff, and few parents in attendance. Undoubtedly they expected them to run, to scream, to freeze up or freak out- and some of the staff and parents did exactly this, which only directed them straight into the waiting vampires' path.

But most of them did not..most of them were ready, and most of them sprung into an immediate counterattack.

All the graduates ripped open their robes, each revealing the weapon they were harboring beneath. Stakes and battle axes, knives and crossbows, grill lighters and arrows, and around each person's neck was a large cross. And as Buffy took the lead, yelling for their call to battle, everyone took up their previously designated positions.

It was Oz's task to gather the parents and staff escaping the vampires and directing them away from the scene of the battle the best he could manage, while also armed with an ax to slice the head off any vampire coming at him- or at least bury it in their chest, giving him time to pull it out and stake them with the handle when they staggered, stunned and pained. Xander, Willow, and Cordelia each lead a specific section of students in attack, shouting instructions- Xander's being the crossbow section. Faith could hear him gleefully shouting "Fire!" at the top of his voice, as he directed his section in shooting flaming arrows through the vampire's chests- and at the demon mayor. Angel, emerging from the shade having stripped off all protective cover, ran to meet the onslaughter of other vampires head on, his face shifting into his vampiric expression as he fought hand to hand, not letting them close enough to Giles and the plunger.

Wesley too ran out to help with his eyes glowing behind his glasses, jaw lifted high in determination, but it wasn't' long before Faith saw him take a hard blow and go down, even as she fought near him and Angel both, helping him keep them off Giles before her part was to come. Hitting and staking her way towards him, she hastily grabbed Wesley up and half carried, half dragged him to Giles and the plunger, depositing him at his feet even as she called over her shoulder over Wesley's gasps.

"No offense, Wes, but this one's not for the grown-ups, I guess!"

It felt amazing to be part of this, to put all her energy and focus into a battle where so many took part, to feel all the adrenaline and emotion around her like a cloud of energy she could physically touch. Her hair flying about, Faith threw herself into the fighting all the way, and in the moment felt no dread or fear, but the pure joy of knowing with unusual clarity who and what she was. Protector of the innocent, defender of the weak…she was Slayer. And she loved it.

To the side, Buffy had slipped away from the crowd of students, where Faith occasionally saw some going down, but from what she could tell, Xander, Willow, Oz, and Cordelia were holding their own. Cordelia, Faith was proud to see, had staked at least two vampires on her own, eyes glowing with defiant triumph. Even as she fought, Faith tried to remain at least peripherally aware of what Buffy was doing- because it not only was important, but dangerous. Not to mention, if all went well, personally satisfying to observe…and it was her cue.

Out the corner of her eye Faith watched as Buffy set up what the others had described as their last remaining rocket launcher from the year before. She already was taking careful aim, even as Xander and his crew continued to shoot flaming arrows at the Mayor from the opposite direction, distracting his focus, and Willow's crew shot them at vampires, distracting them as well. By the time any noticed Buffy, the rocket was already hurtling through the air, hitting the demon mayor straight in the chest, just before exploding.

Several chairs and part of the stage burst into flame from the falling debris of the rocket, and the Mayor released a shrill animal scream of rage more than pain, though Faith saw that the hole burned through his thick scales, the deep wound nearly passing through both sides of him. He shrieked again, gnashing his teeth and rearing before shooting towards Buffy, knocking over chairs and students. But this was Faith's part of the game, and she moved fast.

Taking the small battle ax from the loop of her belt, Faith took fast but careful aim, hurling it in a long arc and watching it spin in the air until the sharpened blade sank directly into the center of the mayor's right eye. As the Mayor howled again, raising himself up and attempting to shake the weapon off violently form his now-blinded eye, Faith stepped in front of Buffy, detracting his attention- even as a familiar dark-haired vampiric beauty suddenly took Buffy's arm, spinning her roughly to face her with a mad smile holding malice every bit as much as glee.

"Can you help me, young Miss?" she asked in a Cockney accent, tilting her head to one side and pouting like a small child, even as her sharp fingernails raised blood on Buffy's skin. "I feel very much alone, you see, for I have lost my daddy, and the stars do not sing and call my name anymore without roaring for his blood. He and my Spike dwell alone in darkness and they will not spell my name in the sky…they are silent, and it is your fault. Nasty, naughty little girl…what would your daddy say, if he knew what a bad, bad little girl you are?"

She smashed her forehead into Buffy's, then seized her face with both hands, leaning in with eyes opened wide, as though attempting to suck Buffy into her gaze. But Buffy blinked deliberately, then sucker punched Drusilla in the stomach before grabbing her hair and thrusting her away.

"My daddy," Buffy said as their face off began in earnest, both kicking and punching, grabbing and ducking with fierce intensity, "would say that the innocent little girl routine gets old when you've had a hundred year birthday…also, your lipstick is smeared!" she added just before smashing her fist into Drusilla's mouth. "Your eyeliner's smudged-" as she socked her in both eyes- "and your nose- well, it's just broken!" she concluded as she punched her in the nose.

As Drusilla shifted to her vampiric features, giving renewed violence vehemence in her returning blows, Faith stood before the half-blinded Mayor, taking his focus off Buffy and onto her- and before he could knock her aside, she shouted up at him, making sure to keep his interest on her alone.

"Hey Wilkins- you liking your new look? Make you feel like a MAN?" she yelled, arms crossed, letting an insinuative leer cross her face and innuendo color her tone. "Funny how a politician called Richard would choose to look like a big, diseased DICK!"

The Mayor stopped short, his good eyes' pupil dilating as he regarded her, a threatening hiss escaping, and Faith kept talking, even as she remained sharply aware of her surroundings.

"What, you don't like that word dick, DICK? You think it's dirty? Funny, I thought all cocksuckers like you like those kind of cocksucker words…what, you don't like that one either, Cocksucker Dick? What are you gonna do about it, come and get me? Yeah, really? Well come and get me, Cocksucker- I know you want to eat me from the outside in!"

Faith was already running before she'd finished her sentence, fully aware of the Mayor's long, powerful form hot in pursuit. She didn't' dare look behind herself to see how close he was as she weaved through the crowd, staring straight ahead, eyes fixed on the high school entrance as she sprinted with everything she had, arms pumping, feet pounding into the ground, hair flying behind her as she propelled herself forward. She didn't think about the people he might be plowing through…she ran as if her life and everyone else's depended on it, and she knew full well it did.

Entering the school's front doors, Faith kept going, through the hallways, through the cafeteria, through the gym, towards the heart of the school, the center of the Hellmouth, the library. She could hear the mayor breaking through the walls behind her, barely slowed by his having to do so, and she hoped like hell that Buffy had managed to stake Drusilla and started back to the other students away from the crowd as planned. As she sped out of the library she shrugged out of her jacket, flinging it to the side as a final piece of the plan just before darting towards the school's back exit, silently praying as she approached that both Giles and the mayor's timing would mesh. Come on, come on…..

It was their hope that the half blinded Mayor would be tracking by Faiths' scent more than by sight, that by leaving her jacket in the library, he would think she had stopped to catch her breath and was hiding there. If he could pause for just a few seconds, before the dynamite registered…if he could stay…

As Faith broke through the exit and began to run towards Giles and Wesley, eyes open wide, heart slamming against her rib cage, Giles caught her gaze and pressed the plunger down. As Faith ran the rest of the way, she could feel the heat of the explosion singing her back, the scream of the Mayor as the school, and him inside it, blew up in a flaming mass of pieces, and even as Faith came to a stop, turning to watch with her chest heaving in winded adrenaline, she felt her lips curve into a smile.

They had done it…all of them.

For a few seconds, she stared, transfixed, as the school burned, smoke and flames stretching to the sky. It was still dark for the moment, but the fire burned brightly, providing more than enough light for her to see all around herself. Still, it took some time for her heartbeat to slow, for her trance-like focus to lessen, and when Faith began to look around herself, she saw that the entire scenario had changed; there was still plenty of action occurring, but it was dying down to a more subdued business than an urgent battle of life and death.

She could see flashing lights approaching, was distantly aware of sirens drawing close, and knew the place would soon be invaded by police and ambulances, and likely firemen- though it was way too late to salvage the damage to the high school. All around her stunned and exhilarated students stood in disbelief of their own survival; some were running or crying, some standing still and blinking, some grinning, hugging, and celebrating with victorious glee. Others, however, lay injured or dead, for not all had survived the battle. However, Faith saw no vampires among the remaining. She imagined with vague satisfaction that those few who hadn't been killed had run off, once the school exploded and they realized they couldn't win out in the end. She just hoped that Drusilla was among the staked rather than runaways.

She was looking among the survivors with heightening anxiety, scanning to find her friends in their midst, when she felt Giles's hand on her shoulder, and turned to see him looking at her with quiet pride, but also concern.

"Are you all right, Faith?" he asked her, and when she started to nod, he left his hand briefly on her shoulder, even giving a slight squeeze. "Good…and good job, excellent timing. But right now, with the police arriving, I think we had better move away from the evidence of the crime," he added with his eyes sliding to regard the plunger at their feet. "Help me with Wesley?"

"Oh, no, I am certain I can manage on my-" Wesley started, but as Giles and Faith both moved to hook one of his arms over their shoulders, he let out a gasping cry that quickly cut off his protest, causing him to amend his statement to a meek request. "Perhaps…a little help, then…"

As Faith helped Giles take Wesley closer to the ambulances now parked nearby, her ears gradually lessening in their ringing, she resumed her search for the others, soon spotting first Oz and Willow, then Xander, in the crowd- all, who upon meeting her eyes, immediately started over towards them, their faces, with the exception of Oz's close-mouthed smile, breaking out into wide grins. She spotted Buffy a few moments later, appearing somewhat banged up even from a distance, and then Angel a good distance form her, walking away between two parked fire trucks. Buffy was watching him go, and Faith knew it could be a while before she would regroup. But as her eyes scanned the others in the crowd, her stomach clinched…for she had not yet seen Cordelia.

As Xander, Willow, and Oz joined them, their eyes wide, voices raised in excitement, there were hugs and relieved laughter, Xander and Willow both bubbling over with tales of stakings and bow shooting, obtaining battle wounds and near misses, but though Faith hugged Xander back and even Willow briefly, and smiled when they talked about her "sprint of super speed," she couldn't listen to what they were saying. She could see Buffy starting over now, not really smiling, but walking with lifted chin and determined stride, and still, no Cordelia…where was she?

She was here. She was okay. She had to be. And if she wasn't, she would be. If she was hurt they would make her better, whatever was wrong, they would fix. Cordelia was okay. She had to be, because if Faith had lost her, then she had lost this entire battle…no, Faith had lost the war.

She couldn't' have lost her.

"Good to see that all your limbs are attached rather than lying around in barbecued pieces," came a voice from just behind her, and Faith's heart leapt to her throat with her joy at its unmistakable tone. Even before she turned to face Cordelia she felt herself smiling so widely her dimples dug into her cheeks.

Cordelia looked rough; she had a gash across her arm and forehead, her gown was torn and stained, her hair disheveled, but she looked at Faith with glistening eyes and a growing smile, and Faith thought she was hotter than ever.

"Good to see all the blood still in your body instead of sloshing around in some vamp's stomach," she rejoined, and Cordelia smirked.

"That's more than YOU can say, Alice."

"Alice?" Faith asked, confused, and Cordelia huffed, as though the reference was obvious, and rolled her eyes.

"Alice in Wonderland…eat me, drink me…girl would have to be a vampire's dream."

"You've read something other than Vogue?" Faith said with faked shock, and Cordelia shot back, "Well if you were able to branch out from reading only the instructions to vibrators, I figured I could catch up."

"Hey, I have NEVER needed a vibrator!" Faith protested, half laughing, half serious, as Giles immediately turned away, cleaning his glasses, Willow turned a deep crimson and cringed, and Xander's eyes bulged. "Is that your own frustration talking?"

"No, just your dresser drawer," Cordelia said sweetly, and as Faith shoved her, and Cordelia shoved her back, they then found themselves wrapped in a tight embrace, neither willing to let the otherg o.

Neither spoke, though by then Buffy had arrived and was looking at them curiously, and when they finally pulled away, Faith found herself pressing a warm, lingering kiss to Cordelia's cheek, even as she noticed the other's stares.

"What?" she asked, her tone more defensive than casual as she had wanted. "Faith hugged, big deal, I hugged you losers too. Buffy want a turn or something?"

She held out one arm to the blonde, who looked at her awkwardly, as though unsure if she was serious or teasing, and took a half step, but didn't' actually extend an arm of her own.

"That hug was very long," Xander spelled out everyone's thoughts, something between suspicion and a strange hope in his eyes as he looked between them. "That was a hug that bore a resemblance to what some might call foreplay."

At this Giles began to walk away abruptly, averting his eyes as he muttered something about going to escort Wesley, Willow's expression took on a very guilty twist as her face flamed still more brightly, and Cordelia turned to face Xander with her jaw tensed in aggression, snapping back at him.

"Well, maybe for someone who gets turned on by LINOLEUM that would be the case-"

"You get turned on by linoleum?" Buffy blurted, looking at Xander with more than a little perplexion, and Xander held up a hand, shaking his head.

"No, that wasn't' exactly what I said-"

"And what if it WAS foreplay, huh? What if we were big fat suck-face lesbian lovers who made out every time your back was turned? Would that be a problem, if that happened to be true rather than one of your pervy fantasies?" Cordelia challenged, and now Faith too stared at her, shocked. She, along with the others, was not quite sure how much truth was in what Cordelia said, at least from Cordelia's point of view.

She could feel Buffy looking between them, more confused than ever, and Willow's mortification; Xander too regarded them both with wide eyes, apparently not sure what to think, before replying sincerely, "Um…if that were true…no, no problem. That would actually, er, be pretty hot."

"Never know, Xan, sometimes even fantasies end up coming true," Faith smirked, catching Cordelia's eye, and for a few seconds they held each other's gaze, exchanging a small smile, while the others looked between them, still uncertain of what, if anything, was true.

Finally Buffy cleared her throat, attempting desperately to change the subject. "Um…so Angel left for LA, he said before today. We have our diplomas stashed around somewhere if anyone wants them, whichever ones were burned…oh, and Drusilla? Officially dust."

"Thank God," Xander muttered, and as Buffy glared, he added hurriedly and rather unconvincingly, "about Dru, of course- I didn't mean Angel…mostly."

As their conversation eased, and they stood together, talking and joking, skewed, torn gowns hanging open as the people continued to mill about around them, Faith stood close to Cordelia, not looking at her often, but comforted by her proximity all the same.

They had survived, all of them…more than that. They had graduated.


	47. 47

"One time around the block  
Two times around the clock  
Three times, don't cross the little lady (lady)

So pretty and, oh, so bold  
Got a heart full of gold on a lonely road  
She said, "I don't even think that God can save me" (save me)

(Am I) gainin' ground  
(Am I) losin' face  
(Have I) lost and found my saving grace  
Thankful for the gift my angels gave me

Born alone, we die alone  
'n' I'm just sittin' here by the phone  
Waitin' for the Lord to send my callin'

Street wise from the boulevard  
Jesus only knows that she tries too hard  
She's only tryin' to keep the sky from fallin'

Any man who says it's Heaven and Hell  
Prob'ly got somethin' useless to sell  
You ask me if I'm saved, but what's it to ya?

Blow a quarter, cop another eight  
You're runnin' out of high, you're losin' your faith  
Throw your hands up and scream, "Hallelujah"

Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
Amen

One time around the sun  
Another year older and my work ain't done  
It's time for me to write the final chapter (chapter)

Deal the cards and roll the dice  
Sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll are my only vice  
Tryin' to figure out just what's here after (here after)

Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
Amen"

"Saving Grace," Everlast

For the next couple of days after the showdown at graduation, everyone was relaxed and unbothered, simply taking their time as things began to swing back to normal. Of course, the school being blown up on graduation day was headline news, and Faith and the others watched with great amusement as authorities scrambled to make sense of it, coming up with the brilliant theory of, as usual, "gangs high on PCP" crashing the ceremony and bombing the school. This, apparently, in their eyes, explained the mysterious disappearance of Wilkins and Snyder and the death of the students who had not survived, though how they explained the scattered snake pieces inside the school ruins and how the majority of dead students also were drained of blood rather than burned by fire, none of the police happened to mention. Still, they had an explanation, however feeble, and as long as it detracted attention from the true engineers of the dynamite explosion, Faith and the others were happy to publically agree.

Since the battle there had been next to nothing in the way of vampire activity; perhaps some had been scared out of town, while others, of course, had been killed in the fight. They knew this was temporary. The vampires would be back by the summer's end, and meanwhile, there were funerals and memorials, as all the parents came back into town, leaving time and space for Faith and the others to simply take time to relax and do nothing much at all after the stress of the past few weeks. They had kept out of the public eye, hanging out at Buffy's or the Bronze and genuinely enjoying each other's company. Though Buffy still seemed a little sad about Angel's departure, none of them let her mope about it for long, and in their presence she laughed, smiled, and teased almost as much as she normally would. It seemed that most of the time she was genuine in it as well.

As for Cordelia and Faith…well, that was a little more complicated…or actually, it was simple on surface level, harboring complicated feelings beneath.

They had not mentioned what Cordelia had said to Xander on graduation day, and certainly not delved into a deep conversation about to what extent Cordelia had been serious about being Faiths' "lesbian lover." It remained in both their thoughts, however, especially Faith's, keeping a slight awkwardness between them whenever they first initiated any form of physical contact, before they shoved the thought away and relaxed. They did not kiss any more frequently than they had before, and their cuddling on the couch- for however Faith attempted to reframe it in her mind, there was no other word for it- as of yet had not lead to straying hands onto more private areas of the body. They certainly were not often or openly affectionate in front of the others, or even when they were alone but in public.

But…the night after graduation, after Faith retired to her bedroom for the night, Cordelia followed her in, still talking casually, and slipped under the covers with her as if she had done so not once before, but every night for as long as she had lived with her. She made no mention of her actions and so neither did Faith, though she could hardly deny that they had been unexpected, and left her unsure of what it was, exactly, that Cordelia wanted.

Cordelia had continued to share her bed with her for every night after that, without ever mentioning in the day that she would do so, and after a few days it became the norm. They did not kiss while in bed, nor did they deliberately cuddle or embrace- it seemed that there was still a tentative line neither would cross, though Faith wasn't sure where it lay. Whatever the uncertainty, she couldn't say that she was unhappy or unsatisfied with where they were now…she felt that whatever was going on, whatever happened, it would unfold in its own time and way, if meant to.

So when Cordelia finally came to Faith one evening and sat on her bed with a serious expression, telling her she needed to talk to her, Faith had figured the big conversation had finally come. Bracing herself, she had gestured for Cordelia to speak casually, even as her pulse quickened. "Sure, Cor. What's up?"

But when Cordelia looked her in the eyes and lay out her thoughts, they had not at all been what Faith had expected…and in fact, stunned her so much she couldn't at first come up with a reply.

"I'm leaving, Faith. In a couple of days, I'm headed to L.A….permanently. So, we need to talk."

Faith thought at first she couldn't' have heard her correctly. Then, as Cordelia continued to watch her, her mind exploded with thought so she could hardly think of what to say first. Leaving…LA? PERMANENTLY? What…why…

"Leaving? But…why? When? I mean…college, or you just…want a new place to live, or…" Faith sputtered, her words stumbling over each other, eyebrows slanting down and a crease forming between her eyes as she grew quickly disturbed by this news. "Cor, WHY?"

Cordelia exhaled, reaching to rest a hand on Faith's inner arm, but Faith barely felt her touch. She stared at Cordelia, trying to understand her motives before she could attempt to explain them…she just didn't understand, this didn't make sense to her brain…at least, she didn't want it to.

Granted, she had never asked Cordelia about her plans post graduation, mainly because Faith not only hated thinking too far beyond tomorrow, but also because she hadn't been sure they would be alive post graduation. But now…for Cordelia to look at her like this, so seriously, as though this were not a passing whim but something she had considered for a long time, something she had decided…how could she have decided something like this and not SAID anything?

"I knew this would suck," Cordelia muttered, sighing, and she kept her hand on Faith's arm, her voice level as she replied. "Calm down, just hear me out, and try to understand. Can you do that?"

She eyed her, waiting for Faith's brief, jerky nod, before continuing, her voice still very even.

"I never wanted or meant to stay in Sunnydale, Faith. I had the bad luck of being born here, but that doesn't mean you have to stay here the rest of your life. I mean, who with two brain cells knocking around in their skull would CHOOSE to spend their life here? Yeah, Buffy's kind of stuck, and that's her bad karma, but me…I always said the minute I graduated, I was out of this freaky loser town. Who would pick to live in a freaking' HELLMOUTH if they could go somewhere else…you know, somewhere big enough to have more than one club and one mall and one Starbucks?"

Cordelia smiled, but it looked strained to Faith, not quite meeting her eyes, and she was still watching her closely.

"Faith…I'm sick of Sunnydale. I'm sick of the Hellmouth. If I'm going to be fighting evil and battling huge apocalypses, I want it to be because I choose to, not because it's forced into my life and taking place in my back yard…if I even HAD a backyard, which here in Sunnydale, I no longer do," Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Everyone with any sense leaves this place as soon as they can…everyone who actually wants to do something with their life, or get to do anything at all that's their own choice. Damn, even my parents were smart enough to leave, even if it was because the IRS gave them a huge shove…some people's choices might be to stay here, and I guess that's their right," she added doubtfully. "But…I want to be an actress, Faith. I always have…and I think I could do it, if I went to LA. Staying here…I know that isn't the right choice for me."

Faith swallowed, her shoulders hunching, and tore her gaze away, pretending to study the wall rather than to look directly at Cordelia and risk her seeing what she shouldn't in her face. Her throat choked slowly, and it took effort for her to force words through its blockage as the sharpness of the grief and rejection she was already feeling take over her heart spread.

Cordelia wanted to leave Sunnydale…and by extension, Faith. After everything they'd been through, everything they were becoming to each other…she would leave her. She wanted to.

"So, what…you just are gonna go? Just like that?" she couldn't keep the bitterness from her tone.

Cordelia sighed again, briefly biting her lip. This time, she didn't try to reason with her; perhaps she felt Faith had earned the right to respond in such a way.

"I'm not going right away, no," she said quietly. "Of course I'll make sure you're set up first, that you have a job and everything. I wouldn't just stick you with the full rent of this place out of nowhere. You have your GED now, and you understand about interviews, it shouldn't be as hard this time. And…LA's not that far. We can visit, and write, or, or call-"

"With the phone and car I don't have?" Faith shot back, her tone stiff and cold now, lips pressed tightly together; as angry as she sounded, it was taking all her energy to keep back the sudden tears she felt rising to burn the back of her eyes. "Nice to see you've got a plan not only for you but all the rest of us too, Cor. Good to know I'm not left out even if I am left behind."

"Faith, it's not like I'm looking forward to this!" Cordelia burst out with, and her sudden volume and emotion in her voice startled Faith, making her slide her eyes to her to regard her more carefully. "I don't want to leave YOU, this isn't about you and your abandonment issues, this has nothing to do with you at all! Or at least, it's not SUPPOSED to be…it's supposed to be about me and my dreams, me and my future, maybe even me and my life, because let's face it, anyone who's in Sunnydale has a better chance of dying within six months than the president has of being caught in a sex scandal, and we all know the chances of that are pretty damn high! But even though this is supposed to be about ME, not you, I DID keep thinking of you, and how you'd feel when I left, and how it would feel to leave you…and I don't want to feel that way, Faith, I don't want YOU to feel that way, but if I stay here knowing I could have had my chance in LA, I know I'll resent it…and I don't want to resent you," she finished fiercely, and Faith was shocked to see that Cordelia was blinking back tears, to see her lips trembling before she thinned them out, struggling for control.

For several moments there remained between them only the noise of each girl's shallow respiration, as each sat still, overwhelmed by her own thought and emotion. Finally Faith slid her eyes to Cordelia, wetting her lips.

"Do you…do you not want me to stay in Sunnydale?" she asked tentatively.

Cordelia let out a slow breath, her shoulders rising and falling. "I couldn't ask you to move," she mumbled, not meeting her eyes. "That wouldn't be fair to you. You have slaying…and leaving everyone else…they're more your friends than mine, so…"

But Faith was thinking about what Cordelia had said, about making her own choices, choosing her own battles, rather than having her battles chosen for her…about making her own path. She was thinking about her conversation with Buffy weeks before in Buffy's kitchen, about Buffy's choice to stay…and her offer for Faith to leave, if Faith chose. She thought about how she had felt in the battle of the Mayor, as if she finally understood what a Slayer truly could be…and Faith knew in her heart the right choice. Her choice.

"Cor, if you're going to LA," she said simply, meeting her eyes, "I'm going with you."

As Cordelia turned to face her, her mouth opening, Faith shook her head, heading her off.

"It's not just for you, it's for me too. Making my own way, finding out for myself who I am and what I want to be, you know? As me…as a Slayer…and I don't think I can do that here, where everyone kind of already has me in a peg…even if it's the right peg, for the moment. So, I'm doing this for me…but that doesn't mean it's not also because of you. Because Cor…" her voice lowered, and she swallowed eyes shifting aside briefly before the words would come. "How'm I gonna find my own way, without you around to yank me back when I step off onto the wrong path?"

Cordelia didn't say anything for a long time; she just looked at her with her eyes softly aglow, her features smoothing out as her smile grew. Faith barely heard or remembered the smartass statement she finally muttered, because it was immediately followed by Cordelia's lips on hers, her arms going around her tightly, and all Faith could focus on was her current decision to hold on, for as long as Cordelia didn't let her go.

888888888888888888888888888

"What I'd like to know," Xander said to Faith softly enough that only she could hear, his eyes turned towards Cordelia, standing several feet across from him, "is how she not only managed to decide which of her ten zillion possessions she would take with her, but also got them all to fit in the car. Guess that was fun to load up, huh?"

Faith just smiled, not indicating that there had been no such decision to make, since the majority of Cordelia's possessions had been placed in with IRS long ago. In fact, all they'd had to do was take everything they owned and cram it into the trunk and backseat of Cordelia's car, and since most of their possessions were clothes, it hadn't been nearly as difficult as Xander must be imagining.

"It wasn't as hard as you might think," she said evasively, though truthfully. "We managed."

The three of them were standing, along with Buffy and Willow, on the sidewalk in front of Buffy's house, where Cordelia's car was parked, packed and ready for her and Faiths' Los Angeles destination. Keeping her word to Cordelia about keeping their apartment a secret, the girls had packed earlier in the day by themselves, and now were dropping by Buffy's on their way of heading out of town for a final goodbye. They had come by the night before to say goodbye to Mrs. Summers, and she had insisted on making a final dinner, inviting Giles, Wesley, and Oz over too.

Joyce had given Faith a warm, rather lengthy hug before she left, smoothing back her hair from her face and reminding her she was welcome to come back and stay at any time. Faith had noticed Cordelia accepting a hug without looking pained over it too…in fact, she had looked a little sad. Giles and Wesley too had wished them luck, and Faith had been somewhat stunned when Giles made as though to rest a hand on her shoulder, then changed his mind mid gesture and pulled her into a brief, slightly awkward embrace. However strange it might have felt, though, she knew he was sincere and was touched by the gesture- though she had to immediately cover by quickly giving Wesley, to his sputtering shock, a bear hug too. She made sure to inform him that she had done so because she knew he had wanted one.

Months ago Faith would have found it incredible to fathom she would miss the British Brigade if she were to go, but a she had left Buffy's house that night, she had known it was true. Even Wesley…how was she going to get delight out of ruffling uptight British feathers and saying things just to see the shock in Wes's face and time how fast Giles removed his glasses anymore?

"So you guys have your apartment set, then?" Xander spoke more loudly as he looked over to where Cordelia stood talking to Willow and Buffy, addressing her now as well as Faith.

"Yeah," Cordelia nodded, shifting her weight to one hip as she turned toward him partially, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. "We'll take a day to get moved in, then I'll head out, start making contacts, see if there's any open auditions already out there. I really need to get some head shots done too, once I find a decent place to do them at where the photographer isn't a guy named Larry making eyes and trying to cop a feel."

"What about you, Faith, are you going to look for a job too?" Willow asked. "Now that you have a GED, I guess it's easier, if you wanted…"

"Yep, about time I tried a normal, average citizen kind of thing, huh," Faith said lightly. "Don't worry, when I get bored I'll swing by and start up mayhem."

"So, about those acting jobs you'll be going for," Xander started with a smirk, even as Cordelia braced herself, already exhaling in exasperation for the joking she knew was coming. "It's just a suggestion, mind you, but some of those, uh, of an adult and mature nature, they can be of a very artistic type, no talent required…actually, Faith, have you ever considered being an actress too? You could-"

He dodged away, just in time from Faith's half-hearted swing, grinning as Cordelia glowered and retaliated with her usual venom.

"Great idea, Xander. Why don't you look into it too since you can't keep any of your jobs for longer than the time it takes for milk to sour? Good pay, no talent required…oh, wait, never mind. That would require a body and equipment that people had the ability to look at naked without laughing."

Xander flinched at that, even as he laughed nervously. "Okay, scratch the adult films…exotic dancer then? Or something REALLY suited to your charm and helpfulness…waitressing? Ow!"

"She's never even been in a school play before," Willow said softly to Faith as Cordelia and Xander continued in a heated banter that they both seemed to be rather enjoying, keeping her eyes on Cordy as if worrying she would hear. "Can she even act? Like a character?"

Thinking of Cordelia's months of deception, how quickly and blithely she had lied about her parents and her job, her living circumstances, how she had concealed not only the degree of pain in her life and feelings, but also the depth of her entire personality, Faith was entirely sincere in her reply.

"She's a pretty good actress, Will. She'll be fine…but even if she sucked, since when does that matter in Hollywood?"

Up until this point Buffy had said very little, listening to the others talk without smiling often or offering comments. Now she looked at Faith biting her lip, before speaking to her alone, as Xander and Cordelia continued to bicker.

"I guess this is goodbye…"

"Nah," Faith shook her head, bumping Buffy's hip with hers lightly. "It's not a goodbye, it's a see you later…come on, B, it's like 90 minutes away. We all have phones, and I'm sure you'll come to check us out…you're too nosy not to," she smirked.

Buffy smiled faintly, but still appeared troubled. Her next words came out in an awkward, stumbling fashion, but her earnestness was enough to make Faith almost feel sorry for her…because she really did seem to mean all of it, and to be having a hard time.

"Faith…I, I'm really glad you came here. And, and I'm grateful for all you've done to help…with everything. I'm just…I'm glad you've been here, and I'm sorry we were on edge for so long, and that I gave you a hard time, when it was already hard for you…and I'm just…I know you want to go, and that's good, that's, that's what you should do, you should have this chance…but…god, this sounds so lame, but…I'm glad we're friends. Sister Slayers…and…I'll miss you."

Her last sentence was soft, Buffy's eyes averted, and when she looked back up at Faith again, Faith was surprised to see the emotion in her face. Faith smiled, her heart warm, and nodded, replying with honesty in return.

"Yeah…me too."

For a moment the Slayers looked at each other with continued awkwardness, faces slightly flushed, and then Faith laughed, raising an eyebrow. "Okay, I know you're wanting to hug, so just get it over with, alright?"

She held out an arm, and Buffy laughed a little too, still flushed, before stepping forward to hug her with surprising intensity. Faith closed her eyes, resting her head against the blonde's, and when they parted, impulsively kissed her forehead. At the startled look on Buffy's face in reaction, Faith grinned, dimples flickering into view as she teased her.

"What? You acted all weird when I kissed Cordy after graduation, I figured you were jealous. Damn, the way you guys act, you'd think I was going around Frenching everyone instead of a friggin' peck way far off from the mouth."

"There wouldn't be anything wrong with it if you WERE going around Frenching everyone, if you happened to have a sudden urge," Xander put in with feigned earnestness. "In fact, it might even be welcomed."

Several shoves and snipes back and forth, another brief round of hugs and verbal goodbyes, during which Faith was quite surprised to see Xander and Cordelia exchange a quick embrace, even if it was preluded and concluded with insults, and then she and Cordelia were getting into Cordelia's car, watching as the others waved goodbye. Faith was smiling slightly, even as the bittersweetness of the moment tightly coiled itself in her chest, and she kept her face turned towards the window as Cordelia arranged her purse and mirrors- until, of course, Cordelia spoke.

"You and Buffy got pretty cozy, with all that kissing and hugging crap," she remarked with a raised eyebrow, and Faith smirked to herself, hearing the faint undercurrent of jealousy in her tone and choosing to call her out on it.

"Aw, your turn's later…you know, you and Xander looked pretty cozy yourself, Cor," she added slyly, knowing that this, if nothing else, would be sufficient to detract Cordelia's attention, and as she had predicted, it definitely was. Stopping all movement, sitting up straight defensively, Cordelia snapped back with great emphasis to her words.

"We were NOT cozy. It was one two second hug, two seconds is NOT cozy."

"A hug's a hug, Cor," Faith snickered, and Cordelia pointed one imposing finger, her voice rising.

"We were not cozy, or cuddly, or cute, or any of those other stupid Willow and Buffy type words, got it? I just…I guess I just don't totally hate his guts anymore. SOMETIMES."

As her tone became more serious, Faith nodded, dropping the teasing as she answered with sincerity, "I'm glad, Cor…I think that's probably good."

She expected Cordelia to start the car then, but it seemed that for the moment, as Cordelia stared ahead of herself at the empty expanse of road, she had forgotten where she was. She sighed slowly, then looked over to Faith, her voice softer now.

"It's so weird, to leave. I always have wanted to, you know? I've been waiting for this day forever, and all you think about is how glad you'll be…but I didn't know it would be kind of sad too."

Faith nodded, holding her gaze, unable to deny the truth of the other girl's words. Even with the excitement and anticipation of the moment, there was also the faint dread of leaving what she'd finally come to regard as comfortable…as hers. Her town, her home, her life, her people…but this was her future too, her possibility, and that trumped it. Not to mention, Cordelia was hers too, in whatever undefined manner, and she would not wave goodbye to Cordelia only to stay in certainty.

"It'll be good…new start, new life….and whatever happens, it's for both of us, right?" she said bracingly, and when Cordelia nodded, she gave her a quick smile. "And on that note, before we take off, I gotta make a pit stop in an old and much-cleaner-than-truck-stops bathroom."

"Faith, we haven't even started the car yet!" Cordelia said incredulously, but Faith was already opening the door, yelling an explanation to the confused Willow, Xander, and Buffy still standing on the sidewalk as she headed back inside Buffy's house towards her bathroom. Scoff she might, but Faith knew damn well if they had to pull off at a gas station Cordy would freak at the condition of THEIR bathrooms.

As she washed her hands, Faith found herself looking up at her reflection in the sink's mirror, staring with slightly narrowed eyes at the girl she saw looking back at her…for somehow, as she looked at herself in that moment, it was as if she were not truly looking at herself as herself, but how an outside observer might. In the mirror was an attractive girl, a girl with a faint hint of a smile curving her lips, a girl with eyes that appeared intense, yet glistened with life and hope. Looking at herself in the mirror, it hit Faith suddenly that she didn't look like a girl who was stupid or unwanted, a girl who was a slut or loser, a girl with nothing and nowhere to go and no one to be with…she looked like a girl with a plan, however vague, a girl with a future, however undefined.

She looked ready…even happy.

Slowly Faith's smile grew, self-conscious at first, then more relaxed, and when she turned, she was somehow unsurprised to see Earl standing behind her, smiling back.

"So, Los Angeles, huh?" he said lightly. "Figures you'd pick a destination having to do with angels."

"Figures you'd corner me in the bathroom again…you've really got a thing for those," Faith retorted, leaning back against the sink.

Earl shrugged, shaking his head as he shifted slightly away from her. "Nah, just easier to get you alone in those."

"So, you here for a goodbye too?" Faith asked, tilting her head with some expectation in the gesture…and also some apprehension. She never would have thought the time would come where the thought of this sort of saddened her…but as she looked across to Earl now, she breathed in slowly, preparing herself for his departure.

But Earl laughed, and as Faith blinked, taken aback, he shook his head again, crossing his arms and looking at her under raised eyebrows.

"Goodbye? What for? It ain't like I'm going anywhere- except to Los Angeles, I guess."

Faith's heartbeat quickened, and even before she had an explanation, even before she spoke she was smiling, almost grinning.

"You're going too?" she asked, trying and failing to sound only mildly interested. "You don't think I graduated out of Angel Academy now that I'm educated and reformed and all the rest?"

"Didn't say I'd be following you every day giving commands and breathing down your neck, but that don't mean I'm gonna stop popping in to see how you're doing now and then," Earl asserted, chuckling. "You might be changed, girl, but my work with you ain't done until you're willing to have a sitdown with God, at least a time or two."

"Yeah, well, hope springs eternal on that, faith, not so much," she punned, before breaking into a grin, realizing triumphantly, "Hey! Swearing saved people's lives! Calling the Mayor a dirty cocksucker was what got him into the school to be made into Mayor barbecue!"

"Okay, maybe you got me on that one," Earl admitted, smiling back. "Call it a draw?"

"Nah, I call that a WIN," Faith said with satisfaction, and when Earl lay a hand on her shoulder, she found herself turning into him and hugging him instead, with genuine affection. Earl laughed, but hugged her back warmly.

"Whatever happened to you wanting me out of your life and leaving you alone, no matter what?" he teased, and Faith smiled as she pulled away.

"Guess I'm a glutton for punishment."

"Nah, not anymore…not you," he said quite softly and seriously, patting her shoulder, before inclining his head towards the bathroom's door. "Now you get on out there, girl, before Cordelia lays on the horn thinking you and Buffy are REALLY having a hard time saying goodbye."

Faith laughed at this, giving him one last glance back before stepping towards the door. As he raised his hand in a wave, she briefly returned it, even as she knew she looked silly doing so. Then, stepping out the door and walking down the hallway, she left Buffy's house and made her way to Cordelia's waiting car, slipping inside.

Cordelia raised an eyebrow and let her eyes shift pointedly to the clock on the dashboard, but Faith just smiled, gesturing for her to start the car.

"Don't worry, it all came out all right, and B didn't corner me for a last minute hugfest. Forward drive."

And as Cordelia started the engine, backing out of the driveway, Faith rolled down the window, letting the wind ruffle through her hair and smirking in response to Cordelia's protest. Even when Cordelia rolled the window back up and locked it in place, she continued to smile…because for once in her life, she truly felt that she could do anything, go anywhere, be anyone. She was a Slayer, maybe even the Slayer…but more than that, she was Faith Lehane. And for this point and time, one of the first times of her life, she felt like that was a pretty good person to be.

The end


End file.
